


Survivors

by meli_fan



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: done by minors, lots of dead starks, only mild violence, or at least presumed dead..., several illegal activities in here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:56:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 47,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1597394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meli_fan/pseuds/meli_fan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rickon was barely eight when his parents and older brother Robb got murdered at the wedding in front of his very own eyes. Arya ran to him and held him against her, and said to him the words that she would repeat constantly over the course of the next years.</p><p>"They're gone, little brother. We need to survive."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I'm aware I shouldn't be starting another story, this just can't leave my head. I don't plan this to be something longer than three or four chapter anyways.
> 
> Excuse any typos or mistakes.

When he was a boy, a tiny little kid, he wanted to live the rest of his life as a fireman, wanted to be a hero and rescue other people. Once he grew up, all he ever did was survive.

Rickon was barely eight when his parents and older brother Robb got murdered. They were in an event at the Twins, when the armed men hired by the Lannisters interrupted the celebration of his uncle’s wedding and butchered everyone. Of course he knows all this thanks to Arya. She knows the name of almost all of them, recites them even, especially when in a drunken stupor. All he remembers is men in bulletproof vests and bullets flying around.

To be frank, he really doesn’t want to remember much of anything. Sometimes when he’s sleeping he remembers his room, and he most definitely recalls every game they had in the den. Sometimes he can still feel the taste of his mother’s meat pie and the sound of his father deep voice. Thanks to Arya, he can still see his eyes. Thanks to his own reflection, he can still see what the rest of his siblings looked like. But it’s all too painful. Arya doesn’t like to talk about the good old days so he doesn’t either.

*/*

Arya rarely enjoys a full night sleep. Whenever she thinks her dreams are going well they always end up becoming memories of the wedding.

She was almost fourteen when it happened. Rickon and her were dancing to an upbeat song, Bran was her usual partner but he had broken his leg and stayed in Winterfell. But then the song changed, a somber, darker tone. She remembers taking Rickon's hand and leading him to the table. Her mother was recording Sansa and her dad dancing in their handycam. It was almost too cute.

She sat in the table next to Rickon who kept fidgeting from the excessive sugar rush, when they came out of nowhere. Men dressed in black pulled out their weapons and the slaughter began, all of them proudly showing off their gold and red bracelets. She took Rickon and hid with him under the table, clasping her hand over his mouth so he wouldn't make a noise. She doesn't know how long the men were there, for her, it felt like hours.

It took a lot of convincing to get him out of the table, and by the time she did she wished she hadn't. Her family's corpses was one image she would never forget. Her dad still clad in his grey tux with a shot in the head. Her mother looked so beautiful with her hair updo and bullet through her neck. Robb's dashling auburn curls looked almost brown next to the bright blood pouring out of his shirt. Jeyne, beautiful pregnant Jeyne was shot through her round belly. Her own uncle Edmure lay near the center of the dance floor, along with many of her family's friends. Sansa was not there, and the horror of imagining what the men may have planned do to her before killing her made her shiver.

She had stayed frozen, staring in horror until Rickon's loud sobs had pulled her out of her stupor.  She ran to him and held him against her, and said to him the words that she would repeat constantly over the course of the next years.

"They're gone, little brother. We need to survive."

She gave Rickon the instruction to search for their parents credit cards and all the money he could find in the guests pockets. She felt ashamed of making her little brother go through dead people's belongings but she had more pressing matters. She ran to the kitchens and the employee's locker room. She broke into two lockers and stole the big bags. She managed to steal as much food from the kitchens as possible. She wasn't sure how long it would last but she wasn't going into any convenience store any time soon. Getting their faces in cameras would be the dumbest thing.

She went back to the main room and got all the money Rickon collected in the bags. She took her brother by the hand and led him to a corner, then forced him to turn around. When he wasn't looking, she striped a dead young waitress who looked her size out of her clothes and changed them with her own.

Before taking Rickon's hand and getting the hell away from that place, she went to her mom and kissed her forehead as she took the camera out of her hands.

Whenever she looks at Rickon nowadays, she remembers her mother's dead blue eyes.

*/*

Sansa was the pretty one, and Bran the well-behaved one. Arya was the ugly one, and he? He was the wild one. That much he got when he was a kid. 

 But turns out, he’s pretty sure Arya wouldn’t get the tips she gets if she was ugly, and he wouldn’t get the gigs he gets if he was such a trouble-maker. Well, he’s not an obvious trouble-maker. You can’t be obvious when you’re breaking the law. 

He knows Arya doesn’t like it, but she’s the worst example. 

“Listen Rickon,” She starts as he pours himself some tea. They don’t have a kitchen perse, just a stove that chooses when to work and a small beat-up fridge that is falling apart. Arya avoids looking at him as she tries to put some order into their ‘living room’. “I’m gonna be.. uh… late today. You’ll be alright?”  

 He swallows his cheap cereal as he looks her up and down. At twenty-one, Arya is the kind of girl that steal glances and receives propositions even from women. She has needed to work since she was fourteen, and as soon as she grew tits she learned to use some eyeliner and appear older. It had helped her get lots of jobs, but probably the one job that gives her more money is the one that makes Rickon’s blood boil with anger. 

He can tell that this night is one of those nights when Arya is going to go out with Jaqen and do shit that makes her end up with blood-stained clothes and some bruises. Rickon pretends he doesn’t know that Arya knows how to use a wide variety of weapons, or that she gets jobs from guys like Jaqen because she’s hot and very dangerous. He’s pretty sure she’s just pretending not to know about the existence of his own M1911 or that he get’s some bucks by helping the whole Thenn gang with their robberies. 

It doesn't matter. They still live in a tiny shitty apartment. 

“I’ll be alright. Do your thing. Be careful.” He tries to sound authoritative, but he fails miserably. Many people often tell him he looks older than his fourteen years of age, thanks to his height and his deep voice.  In front of Arya however, he will never sound like an adult. The way she looks at him always makes him feel like a young boy, a constant reminder he will always be a little brother to protect in her eyes. It makes him feel vulnerable. 

It makes him feel human. 

Arya gives him a smile that makes her look younger by years, and gives him a short kiss on his cheek. 

“I’m always careful.” She gives him a look and suddenly her fingers are caressing his cheek. “You already need to shave. You’re so old, when did that happen?” 

“Like, since I was twelve Arya. Remember I stole the razors you used to shave your legs with?” He speaks up as she goes into her room. They have two rooms and one bathroom in here, while the whole rest of the apartments is one room which they separated by beaded curtains that the previous gay owner left. 

“That’s fucking disgusting.” 

“Cheaper for me.”

 She comes out wearing a leather jacket that he knows once belonged to Jon, and gloves he knows she stole once. 

He know what she’s doing tonight. 

“Hey, do try to go to school today please?” She’s putting her waitress uniform in a bag and her voice is much softer as she asks this. 

“What for? A high school diploma won’t help me get any high paying job, and I don’t want to make friends with that bunch of wieners.” 

Arya shots him a nasty look, and he gives her one right back. It’s the fucking truth anyway. 

“If you don’t go enough they’ll call social services and take you away. Please little brother, I need you to do that for me.” Arya’s voice would make any man do whatever she asked.

 And he’d do anything for his sister.

 */*

 She doesn't like leaving Rickon alone. Call her overprotective, but the mere idea of saying goodbye to him and never see him again makes her shiver. It terrifies her.

 She had raised him herself. She kept him next to her as they hid in the streets and she bought the train tickets to the north, and when they arrived to Winterfell to find it burned, no trace of Bran, she kept him even closer. She wouldn't even dare going into a public bathroom without him following her.

 White Harbor, a huge port city, became home. She got jobs here and there. They lived in a secluded room in a house full of immigrants, in the house of a crazy old woman, in the streets, in an abandoned crackhouse, everywhere. She got jobs she was thankful for and jobs she rather not remember at all. She did things that clearly weren't legal enough to be considered jobs.

 Now, as she leaves Rickon to go work for people who kill for money, she remembers her first time stealing, her messiness and uncare. The same guilt as then is still in her, but as always she remembers the look on Rickon's face from that first time, when she stole money for some milk and proper meat, instead of the tea and rice they had been eating for months.

 She wonders what her parents would think of her. They always made a point of telling her to be honorable and correct. Whenever she was being particularly difficult, having problems at school or with other people, her parents would always succeed in making her feel guilty by telling her she was setting a bad example to Bran and baby Rickon.

 "Arya." Jaqen's thick accent distracts her of her ruminations.

 "Yeah?"

 "Here's what you gotta do. This guys will come out from that  restaurant along with two guards. Bosco here will take care of the guards while I target one of them. The one in black. You gotta run after the other one and steal the usb drive he has by any means necessary. You leave the other one to me, because that one we gotta get rid off."

 It would have been simple, but he didn't count on her target pointing a gun at her. She doesn't panic and disarms him easily, and ends up stabbing him in the side. She has a gun with her, and knows how to use it, but prefers to just not. Stabbing someone in self defense is one thing, but she tries to keep her firearm use to a minimum

 The job gets done and she gets three thousand to partly pay for the loan she asked to a moneylender when Rickon got his tonsils removed last month.

 She comes home to a still awake Rickon, and prays to her old Gods her brother is not following on her footsteps.

*/*

  White Harbor is the kind of city you can get lost into. The kind of city that helps you build in your inner darkness and let’s it flourish into illegal activities and secrets. He thinks of Arya and how easy his sister keeps secrets and escapes their shitty lives. It’s just as easy for him of course. The Thenns have a sort of business that it’s easy to get into if you know how to pick locks and smash things around, which Arya totally teached him to do back when they lived in an abandoned crack house near the port and stole food from the neighbours.

 “Snow boy, c’mere!” A tall bald guy greets him and gives him two models and where they’re parked.

 Some years ago, drunk and high after some party, Arya crawled in his bed and told him as she lay silently in his arms that dad would be so disappointed of her if he knew she stole from hard-working people. He obviously thought it was more important to have food in their bellies than principles.

 But when this people call him a Snow and then tell him which cars to steal, he thinks of Arya’s  slurred words from that night: “Starks are supposed to be honorable and correct, damn it.”

 In the end he does get the two cars, and he gets three hundred for the job. Enough to finally buy second-hand decent water boiler and some basic stuff. He gets home late, and he initially feels guilty. Arya and him have a policy of telling each other if they’re going to be late- so they don’t spent the cell’s money trying to contact each other- and he didn’t warn her.

 He doesn’t have to worry though. When he gets home, she’s not there yet. He lies awake in his mattress - no bed for him- leaving his door open so he can see her arrive. It’s 3 am when she finally comes in through the door making as little noise as possible, from the moonlight he can see the blood in her jeans and the SIG Pro in her hands.

 “Go to sleep Rickon.” her voice cuts through the night and gives him chills. A lump forms in his throat and he can’t answer her.

 She sounds like their mother when she gives him orders.

 */*

 “Oh fuck! Oh fuck! YES! Oh babe…”

 “Shut the fuck up!” Arya screams as she hits the ceiling with their baseball bat. “Keep it down!”

 He chuckles as he keeps on making the pasta. Arya is cleaning up the shit they accumulated on the table during the week while Mrs. Davenport from upstairs is apparently getting her monthly fuck.

 “Seriously, I know it must be hard to get laid only once a month but does she need to get so loud?” Arya makes a disgusted face as they hear Mrs. Davenport’s bed squeak.

 “Well, every person is different. We really shouldn’t bother people about the way they have sex.”

 Arya gives him a look as if asking him why is he suddenly so nice. He just shrugs and keeps on cooking.

 “Harder oh-baby! Harder!”

 He tries to mentally mute everything but Arya has enough of it.

 “Just fuck her hard asshole! Give her an orgasm so we can all eat without puking our guts out!” Arya yells at the top of her lungs.

 “Dude! Ew, don’t want to think of that old hag’s orgasm!” The whole mental image is repugnant.

 “Rickon, if this guy doesn’t finish her I’ll go fuck her myself so she can come and then sleep like a baby.” Arya snaps at him.

 “Sis, don’t let that bitch be your first lesbian experience. I’ll do the deed if you need it so much. If I close my eyes it wouldn’t be so bad, her boobs are still kind of alright.”

 “Who said it would be my first lesbian experience?”  she adds a lifted eyebrow to her question. He laughs but her smile falters as she gives him a serious look. “Beside I don’t want her to be your first experience.”

 “Who said it would be my first experience?” He mimics back at her giving her a wink before turning back to check on his boiling pasta.

 Out of nowhere a wooden spoon hits the back of his head. His hand fly to cover himself as Arya backs away and gives him a murderous stare.

 “What the hell? What was that for?!”

 “You’re having sex and not telling me? What the hell is wrong with you? I’m your sister! You’re suppose to tell me this stuff! I’m supposed to give you the talk and shit. And seriously why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

 Arya’s consternation takes him by surprise, honestly, what's the big deal?

 “Chill out! I didn’t ask you stuff about sex ‘cause… it’s weird!” He admits as he strains the spaghetti. “It’s not like you talked to me about your first time!”

 “How was I supposed to bring it up? I thought you would ask about the noise me and Yorko were doing but when I went to your room you didn’t bring it up so why say anything?”

 “Yorko? Seriously? Is that what you two were doing? Ew! I really thought you guys were just looking some R-rated movie!” The whole idea seems so wrong. And he really doesn’t want to know about Arya’s sex life.

 “Oh stop it! Just…” Arya takes his hand and makes him sit in the table. “Look at me Rickon Stark. In the eye.” He does as he’s told and is not surprised to find stern grey eyes looking at him. “Please, please, tell me that you have been careful. Don’t lie.”

 “I am! I’m not stupid!”

 Arya gives him a smile and messes his hair as she stands up. “Yes, yes you are. Stupid.” She gives a kiss in the forehead and he has an impulse to hug her. His arms come around her and his head rests on her stomach.

 Her fingers are soft as they rub his scalp.

 "Arya," he is surprised at the shakiness in his own voice.

 "Yes?"

 "Thank you."

 "For what silly?"

 He has so much to thank for. For saving us that day at the wedding. For clapping your hand over my mouth and make me shut up. For tugging my hand and pulling my arm and force me to keep running. For holding me every night when I woke up for nightmares. For cooking, cleaning, buying me clothes, put a roof in our heads. For doing God knows what to keep me safe. For caring about something as trivial and stupid as giving me the sex talk.

 "For everything."

 They both try to ignore their sentimental moment during dinner.

 */*

 "Snow. Rickon Snow!"

 The loud voice pulls him out of his stupor. He was definitely  dozing off during history class.

 "Yeah?"

 Mrs. Seely is most definitely pissed at his laid back answer. Her nostrils tremble as she points her finger at him.

 "Sleeping at my class again.  Is the history of our country so unimportant to you?"

 As a public school, this place has a picture of the Bolton flag in every classroom.  He had spent the entire class trying to forget the fact that the history of the North was shaped by Starks, yet this teacher kept going over the Bolton's historical records.

 "No, it isn't." His voice is short and angry. My family history, he thinks, which you choose to ignore.

 "If you are, then don't fall asleep, you disrespectful boy." Mrs. Steely is clearly pissed off at his tone of voice but he can't let it go.

 "If you don't want us all to fall asleep, why don't you teach us real history instead of this bullshit?"

 "Excuse me? Careful..." Her voice is threatening but he can't stop himself. He's just so angry.

 "Why not teach us about the Starks and all the good they did instead of talking to us about the Boltons who only sat scratching their balls until-"

 "That is enough!" Principal's office! Now!"

 That's how he ended up staying later after class. Rather than letting it slide with some detention, Mrs. Manderly wanted to speak with Arya. He would probably also get detention, but now Arya also had to ask some time to her boss so she could come fix his problem. Rickon knew that was a guarantee she would be pissed at him in the house.

 There were three people along with him waiting after class. That creepy guy who always got in trouble for something creepy, a cute girl and him.

 Suddenly the girl turned and he saw the mark in her face. This was the infamous Shireen Baratheon. Rumor has it that she was bullied in almost every rich kids school there was, and so she had to come to this dumpster. She was obviously way smarter than anyone else, and while she was sweet enough to tutor anyone who needed help, she had a reputation of being stern and relentless like her father.

 Not that he blames her. There's only so much bullshit you can take from others without becoming a sarcastic asshole. Arya and him are living proof of how having to handle too much shit makes you act like a  little shit.

 "Your headphones are falling out of your pocket". Her voice was kind as she interrupted his ruminations.

 "Oh, thanks." She gives him a sweet smile as he orders his shit. There's a bit of awkward silence and then the creepy kid's mom arrives and they go inside rather hurried.

 "So.... why are you here?" He asks. Might as well make one friend in this hellhole.

 Shireen makes an uncomfortable face as she fidgets in her seat. "I uh... I talked back to a professor. Most disrespectfully."

 "Really?" She does not sound capable of being disrespectful. "Me too. Old Mrs. Seely lost her shit because I said her Bolton speech was way too obvious."

 She laughs then, and the sound it's the prettiest thing he has heard since.... a long time.

 "I don't like her either. She's... I mean, you can't never say anything different from her views."

 "I know right?"

 "Yes!"

 "So.. whose butthole did you pepper to get thrown in here?"

 "I beg your pardon?".

 Fuck. Rickon is so used to Arya's shitty language that he forgets you're not suppose  to be this vulgar around normal girls.

 "Sorry, I mean, which teacher did you piss off?"

 "Oh... I... Mister Frey."

 "Black Frey or Skinny Frey?"

 She once again laughs at the informal nicknames for the teachers and breathlessly answers "Black Frey."

 "Seriously? I'm impressed!" They both laugh at his own admiration. Well, Black Frey is scary.

 "He said that poor people are just a waste to the system and they are just a loss of funds and are no real help to the state." Shireen said. "But that is so classist and unhuman! A lot of poor people pay taxes with effort and-"

 "Shireen."

 They're interrupted by a tall and broad young man with black hair and blue eyes. He eyes them both with interest, though his glance gets suspicious when he stops on Rickon.

 "Gendry. Hi. My dad couldn't come?" Shireen doesn't look too ashamed, whereas Rickon is dreading the moment Arya walks through the doors.

 "No. He knew it was the same problem from last time and said you just have to say sorry and suck it up.” Gendry crosses his arms as he looks down at her.

 “Did he actually say those words?”

 “Maybe he didn’t use the term ‘suck it up’ but yes, basically that.” Gendry sits next to her as they share a smile. “Listen I know this people might be assholes-” Rickon barks out a short laugh at that - “but you have to lay low. You’re my cousin and I love you and I know it must be hard but if you should just ignore people.That way you won’t have to change schools again.”

 “Gendry I didn’t have any problems with any classmates! It was a teacher!” Shireen does not seem proud of talking badly to a teacher but she does seem proud of not having problems with other students. Gendry is clearly shocked.

 “Seriously? Wow. Now I’m impressed.”

 “That’s what I said.” Rickon interrupts, and get a shy smile from Shireen. She’s really cute.

 Gendry looks at him suspiciously again, probably not wanting what he sees as a young criminal talking to his precious cousin.

 “Yeah, it’s not common of her. You’re…?

 Before he can answer, Arya’s voice cuts him short.

 “Rickon Snow.”

 An iceberg was ten times warmer than her tone of voice. Arya is a stone really, her eyes piercing him like a knife.

 “Arya, I’m sorry I-”

 “Damn right you’re sorry.” Arya barely send the other two a uninterested look before glaring back at him. “It’s not even that my boss will be pissed at me or that I’ll lose money. You know that, right?”

 Oh how ashamed he feels. “Yes, I know.” He knows nothing he’ll says will convince her that he’s not fucking up, so he better just keep his mouth shut. At least he knows Arya won’t do a big scene, just be silently angry and disappointed. Which is worse really, because all he really wants is to keep her safe and happy, make her feel proud and unpreoccupied.

 “Then why the fuck am I here you little shit?” Arya asks. That one actually surprises him. Arya usually swears around him and only half-heartedly at him, but never with such an aggressivity. But he knows why she’s pissed off and he knows he fucked up.

  Arya and him have only come “clean” when she turned eighteen. They have found an old druggie lady dead, and have gone to the police claiming she was their mother and that she never bothered to register them in the system.They made up a whole sob story about living in cars and getting passed between strangers. He spent the first four months in foster care, until Arya got custody of him, and even then it was a tricky business. The first six months they got visits from social services nearly three times a week and twice did they almost take him away. Once, they came dangerously close to realize they were not common “Snows”. Which was really dangerous because they did not know just how much spies the Lannister could have. Drawing attention at them was very very foolish.

  He opens his mouth to say something, but Shireen beats him to it. She had gasped loudly when Arya has swore at him so harshly, and his sister turned to see the young girl giving her a judging look.

  “You shouldn’t talk to him like that.” Shireen nearly whispered. Arya limited herself to lift an eyebrow, and suddenly he remembered why his sister was feared by her classmates when she was little. When she wanted to look at you as if you were dirt on her shoe, she managed to deliver a perfect ‘what the fuck are you?’ face.

 “Excuse me? Listen little princess, don’t get into a conversation that has nothing to do with you, alright?”

 “Hey, hey,” Gendry held his hands up. “Calm down, it’s alright. She just thought you were a bit harsh. Don’t ‘cause a scene.”

  Arya did take a look around, towards some secretaries who were clearly looking at them out of the corners of their eyes. Arya simply gave a nod and sat next to him.

 “Whatever. Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude to you.” She gave Shireen a half smile, which the girl returned. Rickon looked at his sister, who returned his look with as much nastiness as she could convey. “Don’t talk to me, you’re on my shit list. And I’m really worried about getting out of work, I’m not just trying to make you feel more guilty but…” Arya was anxiously running her finger through her hair.

 "Hey listen, you can go first if you want.” Gendry offered. His blue eyes were kind when they looked at his sister, almost… soft? “I don’t mind waiting a little longer.”

 “Really?” Arya seemed impressed about receiving kindness from a stranger. “Thank you.”

 The creepy kid and his mom come out soon afterwards, and then he and Arya are in. The principal was very short and clear about how respect towards teachers and authorities was something very important in the school. While she never once touched the dreaded subject of “home stability” or “proper care” or “guardians” or anything remotely threatening or social-services-like, she did looked at Arya a lot, enough to make his sister fidget in her seat, which she never did. Arya actually took his side, and demanded that the teacher also show some patience and tolerance towards a student like him who had been in very few proper school years (and who by some miracle passed his test to get into high school) and was actually new to such a figures of authority and proper classroom etiquette.

 Mrs. Wynafryd Manderly had nodded, but the way she looked at Arya’s face, like she knew her from somewhere, left both of them unnerved. Rickon was left out with no more than a warning.

 As they went out, they crossed Shireen and Gendry.

 “Hey” Rickon started, and suddenly he didn’t know why he was so nervous. “I’ll see you around?”

 “Not in detention, please.” Gendry said before Shirren could answer. At the same time as Arya answered “Outside the principal’s office, you little vandal.” Both exchanged a look, and his sister gave Gendry one of her rare, honest smiles. The look on Gendry’s face was of someone so besotted, it was ridiculous.

 If Rickon had had a mirror, he would have seen the same expression on his face when Shireen answered.

 “Sure. I’ll see you around, Rickon Snow.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, I was a bit stuck with the ending of this. As always apologies for the typos or any mistakes.

Arya loves dancing. She loves feeling the rhythm in her bones, moving in tandem with them. Despite Sansa always been the perfect lady of the house, it was Arya who had the gift of dancing with grace. Before all the shit went down, she was in several dance classes and had a lot of end-of-the-year-shows. Many of her happiest memories consisted of all of her family applauding from the public after she had a presentation. Her mother of course always with a camera on recording.

And so, since Rickon was old enough to be left with some babysitter or kind neighbor or alone, she had rejoiced in putting some dress on and going out to dance with some friends.

Well, her so-called friends.

She had always been popular and friendly. While back in primary school she had a sort of reign of terror over her classmates, as she grew up she became quite popular. She made friends here and there, and she always had a fairly active social life. But after she and Rickon went under, it was harder. She still made friends, albeit more difficulty seeing as in some point in her life she became more assholish than friendly, but could never trust them fully. Fun people to be around and loyal enough to call if you needed a favor, but to all of them she was Arya Snow.

As she went out with Jeyne and Willow, she wondered if maybe this would be the day when, between a few drinks and a few laughs, she would spit out the truth. But as the night wore on, despite how many times she tried, the words never left her mouth. It frustrated her endlessly, there was no way this two orphan girls were Lannister spies yet she could not tell them. So she drank and drank more, and all of them ended up dancing drunkenly in some club, yet no confession came out of her mouth. She did have a good time with her friends though, laughing and drinking some Lysene drinks and checking out strangers.

The next thing she knows, she's having sex with a stranger in the bathroom. She's bracing herself against the stall's walls as he pounds into her. The whole thing is a blur, but it feels so good and he’s so handsome. And maybe she’s not very good at being honest and trusting people but damn it, she’s good at this. And she loves when guys like this tell her she’s good and beautiful and that she feels so right. It’s one perfect escape from her suffocating life style.

Afterwards they’re both satisfied but not nearly done and tall, dark and handsome ask if she wants to go back to his place. And she can’t say no to one night of being free.

*/*

Rickon is not really a casanova. Despite what tv shows say, girls are not actually that attracted to guys who hardly smile and are pretty much moody assholes. He would like to date some nice girl too, but it's really difficult to trust anyone with anything. He does the occasional date that ends up in some action, but he tries not to pay too much attention to girls, knowing nothing will ever happen.

Which is why he's a bit shocked when Shireen Baratheon simply goes through his defense system and doesn't leave his mind for the entire week.

He doesn't share classes with her, seeing as she's actually two whole grades above him.  But luckily for him, she tutors the stupid and desperate.

He's not stupid but he sure as hell is desperate.  A life of crappiness, he's capable of reading and learning, problem is he's never had anyone to teach him beyond that. Obviously Arya being the perfect sister actually thought him as much as she knew and remembered, and bought some second hand math and science books. But she also dropped out of school, so really he might have gotten into high school but there's still a lot of shit he needs help with.

Shireen is an awesome tutor. She's kind when she realises he's had a limited education, and firm when he gets bored or frustrated and wants to quit.

"Listen Rickon. There's no use to good looks if you have no brains."

"It's not like there's any way I'd go to university. What's the point."

"Because a lot of people are rich and they didn't go to college. But they need to be smart. Have some basic knowledge of things."

"I'm street smart!"

"Which won't give you big numbers in a check rather big numbers in your prison sentence, little vandal."

"Hey!” Only Arya has ever called him that and gotten away with it. “You're not so cute!"

"You don't need me to be cute, you need me to be strict. Now go on, give some facts about the digestive system."

"I- whatever, only because I like biology."

He used to think his sister was the most perfect woman in the world. She was strong, funny, kind, caring and always ready to do more that she was capable of to give him comfort.

Shireen is like that too, strong, funny, caring... she had none of Arya's wild nature and reminded him a bit of Sansa with her soft voice and always perfectly mannered and strong in her own way. She proudly ignored the people who made fun of her face, and if one of them got out of hand she could held her head high, no matter how bad it got. He offered to kick some people's asses but she told him not to get into trouble for people who are not worth it.

She was awesome really.

It was a thursday night. Arya had a free night and had gone out with some friends. He had asked Shireen out so they could do something the next day after school, but he had no money.

He had some, but not enough to actually invite her to the cinema and pay for the food and the tickets and the taxi to her house.

There was only one place he could go to get some job done.

*/*

Gendry was not one to have one night stands.

Which is why, when he woke up next to a brunette in his bed, he was initially a bit put off. He's not against people who have one night stands, but he has never had the courage to have one. It’s difficult for him to talk to girls, and so if he gets to sleep with any it’s after a few casual encounters here and there, obviously set up by some friends, and not a one night stand prompted by his incredibly non existing charm.

But that initial disconcerting feeling quickly goes away because, the thing is, he knows this girl. He remembers her because she wouldn’t leave his mind for days. Arya Snow.

A stupid fluttering feeling settles in his stomach as he watches her sleep. She’s not really the kind of girl he would define as cute, but when she sleeps she looks very pretty. Like she belongs to that place and that moment, naked among his grey sheets in a cold winter morning.

He rubs his eyes and gets up, trying to recall what happened last night. He does not usually go to clubs, but it was Tom's birthday and so they went at his request.  Then he remembers they started doing shots around one am.... and he doesn't remember much afterwards.

He starts the coffee machine and picks up some clothes that were left on the floor and places them on the couch. His apartment has a nice view of the sea, so he admires the harbor in the morning and he tries to remember.

"Nice view." Her sharp voice pulls him out of his stupor. He turns and smiles at her appearance. His shirt does look good on her. "The only view I have from my room is the brick wall of the other apartments."

He desperately tries to come up with something clever to say. "I think you're the best view." That's the only thing he comes up with. Arya gives him one sardonic smile and moves to his kitchen.

"Can I..."

"Eat whatever you want." He offers as he follows. He rather enjoys trailing behind her, the view... "So last night..."

"Don't." Arya holds her hands up and looks at him straight in the eye. "I mean, I can tell you're not used to this stuff."

"That obvious huh?"

She lets out a little laugh and nods. He completely regrets what he thought before, she can be cute.

"You don't have to be ashamed or anything. Some people do one night stands, some people don't. Simple as that."

"Are they always this awkward?"

"Pretty much."

Arya bits her lip and he very suddenly remembers biting it last night for her.  He steps closer to her and makes to touch her, but she steps back.

"No no no. Don't. You're not supposed to do stuff the morning after."

"Really? That's a rule?" He mocks.

"It's the normal way. Most people sneak out before breakfast included me." She scratches her head and yawns. "I don't know why I decided to grab a bite."

"Sounds like you don't mind breaking rules." It's a poor attempt to get her to yield, but he's gotta try.

She looks away and he takes to opportunity to stand close to her, hands on her hips. He wants to get her out of his shirt, or maybe not, he can't decide which is sexier.

"Seriously I-"

"Why are you scared of round  two?"

"I'm not scared! I just-"

"Well alright whatever round we're in."

"You're not supposed to-"

"You don't look like the kind of lady that does what she's supposed to."

"It complicates things. The morning after there's daylight and no alcohol involved and-"

He cuts her short with a kiss. For all the opposition she was putting, she let his tongue past her lips without much of a fight.

As they took off the little clothes they had on, with her all perched up on the counter, she took her lips off his to snicker one sentence.

"You're unbearably stubborn."

They never had the coffee.

*/*

He screws up. He screws up bad.

The instructions he gets are simple. People park their car somewhere, the guys distract them and he steals the car. He usually does two in one night and gets a lot of money.

But this time, he can't. He gets to the car and the alarm goes on. That happens all the time  and he focuses on opening it. But it takes him so goddamn long. The security system is wicked and when he finally opens the car he can't start it as easy as with other cars. He's taking too long and he knows that mean someone eventually will find him.

So he runs.

And is not until he's back home he realises he's the stupid idiot Arya is always telling him he is.

Rickon panics. He knows the Thenn gang are going to be super angry. Like murder angry. He has seen them point guns at the fools who turn their back on them.

“If you’re not useful, then you know too much, and we can’t have that.” He has heard the threats.

He can't breath and suddenly he really wishes Arya was there to hold him. Or maybe not Arya, but his mom with her beautiful soft smile and comforting embrace. Or his dad, with his warm understanding eyes and strong presence. He calls his sister anyways, but she won’t pick up her phone. He thinks of Robb, Sansa, Bran and Jon, how kind they always were, how if he didn’t have Arya to help he could have any of his other four siblings.

But none of them are there for him so he sits, puts his head in his hands as tears start to pour from his eye before he can stop them. And suddenly he understands why Arya was crying that time. Because they're both kids, because their lives are shitty, because they're not supposed to be dealing with this crap, they're supposed to be safe back in Winterfell.

Because Starks are supposed to be honorable, damn it.

*/*

She was worried when she didn't see him in school.

In just a short time Rickon had become an incredibly important part of her life. Perhaps it was because she didn't have many friends or because he seemed to be her exact opposite, but she found him so interesting and exciting. Although he did not have a bookish intelligence he did have street smarts. He had a lot  of character. She expected she would feel inferior when next to him -moreso than usual -but instead found out his strong attitude awoke in her a hidden desire to be noticed.

Once she had been very afraid to talk to other people. Her conversations outside family were limited to her tutored classmates and  some teachers. While she loved all her cousins - gentle Gendry, charismatic Mya and sweet Edric - she had never been able to pull off a long good relationship with anyone else.

Fear of rejection perhaps, of the mocking and the jokes and backstabbing. Fear that people were more interested in her name that her friendship. She had learned to defend herself from extreme bullies, but it still ached in her heart that people seemed to ignore her and she had never mastered a way of socializing.

But that day of their date, she was not afraid anymore. Rickon was not a heartless jerk. He was brash yes, and a bit rude when bothered but never impolite or hurtful. And he had proven he clearly did not care about her mark or her name. He noticed her and liked her by who she was.

She wore headband that day, unashamed of how it pushed the hair back from her face and left all her marked face visible. She was just a normal girl, going to a normal school, and after that she would go to a normal date with a normal boy. But when he didn't show up that morning she felt a pang in her heart.

No nickname or mean comment had ever hurt her as much as being ditched. She was so sure he would come.

She spent the rest of the day being her usual sullen self. Gone was the positive girl that Rickon had liked. She did not even picked up a discussion with any teacher. Her mother would have been proud. She felt so stupid. Stupid to let a it affect her so much.  Mia would be so disappointed of her.

Even her father had been rather proud of her for becoming less quiet and more socializing. He had liked her work as a tutor and even if he tried to hide it, he liked it when she told him of her discussions with her teachers. Her cousins had been so proud when they dragged her along to a football match and she had gotten along fine with Gendry's friends.

And her she was now, depressed over a boy. Mya would definitely be disappointed.

Which is why she nearly missed Rickon when she went through the front doors at the exit time. Usually Edric picked her up and she had told him not to do so that day. She had planned on going to go eat something fried and covered in chocolate to drown her sorrows but Rickon waved his arms until he finally catches her eye.

She felt so relieved to see him there.  It was like suddenly it was sunny and the birds sang again. She nearly ran to him.

Her joy was short lived however, when she saw the expression on his face. Rickon's blue eyes seemed to contain all the sadness in the world. And his body, usually so fierce and energetic, seemed to have shrunken on him, like an old man.

"Hey." His voice had a different quality as well.

"Hi." She stepped closer to him and resisted an urge to hug him. "I got worried when you didn't come to school this morning. Are you alright?"

Rickon looks her in the eye. "No." His answer was short and his tone dry. "But I want to go on our date."

She nods, but his eyes make her nervous, so she looks down. His hand is there, so close. She doesn’t know how to help but maybe  is she held his hand… give him some comfort. Time seems to go ten times slower as she moves her own hand towards his. His fingers are warm and calloused as she intertwines them with his. The picture of their union distracts her, and she does not feel as he moves closer, his forehead suddenly touching hers.

The proximity catches her by surprise, and she jumps at the contact. She lets go of his hand and looks up. A trace of a smile hides in the corner of his lips.

“We don’t have to go to the cinema if you want. We can go some place and… just talk.”

Rickon does smile this time. “I know some place near port where we can get some delicious chips.”

“Lead the way then.”

*/*

By the time Arya gets home, she has to hurry if she wants to  get in time for her shift at the restaurant. She’s a bit sore and tired, but hasn’t felt this light-hearted since before her family died. It scares her. She had avoided giving Gendry her number, but could not avoid the little butterflies she felt in her stomach when he smiled and told her he did not give up that easily.

Rickon is not in their apartment, which is odd considering he should have already finished school. She checks her phone and finds a missing phone call from hours ago. Worried, she calls him right away.

“Hey” he picks up at the second ring. She can tell from his voice that something is not completely right with him.

“Hey, I just got home. You called me, I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear it.” She changed and gathered her stuff as she talked, no time for a shower.

“Clearly.” Rickon was giving her the attitude, which either meant he was real pissed or just simply being a bratty teenager.

“Listen, I’m really sorry ok?” ugh, sometimes, she did not have the patience to deal with his moodiness.  “Is there anything I can do for you? Are you on your way home?”

“No. No, I’m with a friend.” Something in his tone of voice told Arya he was with a girl friend. She frowned.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Silence. “I’m going to work. I will see you when I get back.”

She hang up without saying goodbye. Whatever the deal was with her baby brother, it was clear he did not want to talk to her. She would deal with it later.

She was barely out the door when she came face to face with a tall lean man, with fierce dark grey eyes. She stands as tall as she can, and reminds herself that whomever this man is, she is a Stark, with a lineage as old as the First Men, and  wolf at heart.

“Can I help you with something?”

“I’m looking for Rickon Snow.” he says, more like demands. He looks her up and down, probably looking for traces of similarity. “You his mother or something?”

She furrows her brow. “His sister. What do you need him for?”

“He and I have some business together. We need to discuss stuff.” He tells her, crossing his arms.

“Right. Listen, my brother is barely fifteen, so I suggest you go do business with someone else.” She moves to avoid him and leave, but she’s stopped by his arm blocking her. She looks him up and find him not amused at all by her words.

“Listen, your brother decided to do business with me. So tell him if he’s a man he’s gotta come talk to me, you hear me?”

“No way. I told you already, stay the fuck away from my brother.” She pushes his arm and makes for the outdoor stairs, knowing he can’t make a scene where people may see him. As she’s about to arrive to the exit, his hand on her elbow stops her.

“Bitch, don’t you know who you’re talking to? My name is Sigorn Thenn. You don’t wanna mess with me.” He practically spat the words at her face. Arya scolded her face to keep her surprise from showing.

It didn’t matter what this man wanted with Rickon, she was killing her little brother tonight. How dare he make business with these people?

“You don’t want to mess with me either, believe me.” She didn’t know how threatening she may sound without her gun in her hand, but she needs to try. She shakes her arm free, and finds little resistance from his part. Sigorn smirks at her.

“You seem like a smart girl. Definitely smarter than your brother.” He looked her up and down again, and this time, she noted his gaze stopped at her breast significantly. “I just need to talk to him. Tell him I will be waiting.”

With that, he turned and left.

She had no time to think about it. She ran to the bus stop and did not allow her mind to worry until she was in the restaurant. Her boss told her not to be late again, but other than that let it pass easily. She got to the back, changed into her waitress blouse and pants and laid her head against her locker.

Soon enough, a few tears escaped her watering eyes. ‘Oh that foolish boy…. What has he done this time?’ her mind asked itself again and again. It didn’t matter. Whatever he had done, she would get him through. Even if she had to kill this Sigorn Thenn or anyone else for that matter. She would slap Rickon until he gained some sense, but then she would get him through this.

“Arya, table six!”

She took the menus and walked to her table. It was a fancy restaurant. Not exactly the most luxurious, but fancy enough to get nice patrons that give good tips. In her table there were four people: a man with a bit of black hair, blue eyes and a stern face with lips that never seemed to smile, dressed sharply. To his right another man a of brown hair and eyes, and a beard with a little of white in it. To the left a smiling man of blonde hair. She could not see the other man, other than his large muscular back and his black hair. She went towards them and began her usual greeting while lookign at them.

“Welcome to the Green Mermaid, gentleman. My name is Arya and I will be serving you to-” her speech got cut short, when she found herself looking at a pair of very familiar blue eyes. “..night.” She just stood there, looking at Gendry’s eyes, her heart beating in a way it had never done before.

“Arya!” He was surprised, and his hands shot up, as if he hold her, but quickly went back to his sides. “I-”

“You two know each other?” The man with the blue eyes asked. He eyed Gendry slightly but focused more on her.

“Yes sir, we…” fucked each other senseless last night, her mind screamed, and to her utter horror, her cheeks blushed.

“We met at the school. Her brother is friends with Shireen.” Gendry said. She sent him a discreet thankful look. “

“Is that so?” The man kept staring at her, unnerving her to the bone.

“She’s his tutor. He tells me she’s very smart and teaches him a lot.” Arya offers.

“Uncle, this is Arya Snow. Arya, this is my uncle and Shireen’s father, Stannis Baratheon.” Gendry introduces them.

Stannis Baratheon, the District Judge, the second most of important person in White Harbor after Mayor Manderly. Also, the younger brother to her late father’s deceased best friend, Robert Baratheon. Arya can’t help to gulp, feeling like she may vomit. What if this man knows who she is? If he sees the resemblance between herself and her father? She doesn’t remember meeting him when she was younger but maybe he did… What if he does find out? What would he do?

“Arya.” He keeps looking at her. She sees it in the way he focus in her eyes. Her Stark grey eyes. He knows who she is. “How did you say your brother was called?”

“Rickon,” Gendry answers for her, completely oblivious. She’s ready to murder him.

“Very well then, I will ask Shireen about him. If they’re good friends then I think she should invite him to the house some day.” The other  man chuckle, but Stannis is completely serious as he looks at her. “We’ll have a bottle of gold wine from the Arbor.”

“Very well sir. I will leave you the menus so you can decide.” She gives them the menus and turns quickly to get the wine.

The rest of their meal passes without any further tense moments for her. They eat their meal, they pay and leave a nice tip. She notices Gendry puts a good part of it.

Before they leave through the door, Gendry flashes her handsome smile and waves at her.She returns the wave, but the focus of Stannis icy eyes on her leaves her unable to smile.

*/*

“This is delicious!” Shireen beams at him, and he can’t help himself from returning her smile.

He had asked her to distract him by telling him about her day, and so far it had worked wonderfully. He couldn’t help it. She was so charming. It was clear she was passionate about studying. Her favorite subject was history, and once she started to mention him about how they discussed the war of the First Men and the Andals that day in class there was no stopping her. She was very cute, but perhaps her most beautiful feature was how truthful to herself she was.

It was not something he was used to, truth.

“I’m glad you like it. The beer is good too, but I don’t want to get you drunk on our first date.” He smiles. Shireen blushes as the word ‘date’.’

‘What are you doing Rickon?’ a voice that sounded like Arya’s shouted in his head, ‘It’s not safe for us to go around forming attachments, remember?’

“In any case, it takes more than a beer to get me drunk!” Shireen admonished. She had a proud look upon her, like she was glad to surprise him with that information.

“Really? I don’t believe it!”

“I know for a fact that it takes a pint and a half of beer to get my words a bit slurred!” Shireen announces.

“I’m sorry princess, but how do you happen to know that?” He calls bullshit on that theory.

“I have three older cousins Rickon. Seriously, you think they haven’t introduced me to alcohol yet?”

“Sorry, it didn’t seem like your cousin was the kind of guy to give you some sips of booze.”

Shireen let out a laugh and nodded. “Yeah, ok he’s the overprotective one. But Edric is closer to my age and  Mya though it was a good idea that we tried it with them because that way we’d gain some resistance instead of blacking out in out first college party.”

“Wow.” The whole thing actually made him sad. Would’ve Robb and Jon done the same for him?  He remembered them having a few beers along with his father when they had a barbecue. Then he remembers how Robb had passed out drunk when they had gotten the news of from the military of Jon going MIA. ANd then how everyone but him had made a toast with champagne the day of Robb’s wedding…

“Are you ok? You got so pale out of nowhere…” Shireen looks worried. He doesn’t want her to be worried.

“I’m good I just… remembered the first time I got drunk. Not nice.” He joked half heartedly. “Arya didn’t have the same idea of your cousins. So my first time I got home super dizzy and puke all over the kitchen floor.”

“Oh Gods. How old were you?”

“Thirteen. A neighbour of mine stole one of his father’s bottles of rum and we ended up piss drunk.” It had not been cool. Some adult saw them and they called social services. They nearly took him away from Arya.

“Oh Rickon, that’s just stupid.”

“That’s what Arya called me.”

“I imagine she did.” Shireen pursed her lips tightly, disapproval written all over her face.

“Don’t judge her for how she treated me that day. She’s a good sister, just stressed.”

“My father is a workaholic District Judge constantly stressed, and no matter what I do he’d never call me ‘little shit’. She shouldn’t treat you that way.” He know Shireen was just being nice, but he couldn’t help but defend his sister.

“Seriously? Does your father work three jobs just to feed you and keep a roof above your heads? All of this just as twenty-one year old orphan? Yeah, sure, he and my sister are a fit comparison.” He snaps back.

“Hey,” Shirren does not back down, in fact, her tone is similar to his, “I’m not attacking you or saying your sister can’t take care of you, I’m saying she should treat you with more respect, that’s all.”

“How about you don’t talk about my sister. Ever. She’s none of your business.” He doesn’t know where this is coming from, but he’s already sorry for the tone he’s using.

Shireen is obviously taken aback by this attitude. “I’m sorry. I though dates existed so people would get to know each other ever.” She looked down at her hands, and now he definitely felt guilty.  “I didn’t knew it was a difficult subject for you, I just-”

“No, don’t- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lashed out, I just.” He runs his hands through his face in frustration. Now he understands why Arya doesn’t do dates. He desperately wants to tell Shireen everything, because he knows she will understand, but he can’t. “I’m having a bad day.” He sets his hands on the table and looks at her apologetically.

“I know.” She gives him a soft smile, and her hand finds his. It feels so soft and tender and kind. It feels like he had waited for that simple touch for centuries. “I just want to help you. I care about you, you know?”

Gods, she’s so beautiful. He’s sure he has never met anyone this beautiful before.

He doesn’t know when he decides to kiss her, all he knows is that one minute he feels like the world is upon his shoulders and the next it feels like it has been lifted. Sparks fly from his lips to his heart to the rest of his body. He kisses her tenderly,and he hopes he doesn’t scare her. She’s the most precious thing he has felt in a long time.

The sight she lets out when they separate for air it’s the cutest thing ever as well. Her blue eyes are shining and a cute blush has covered her cheeks.

 “Shireen I-”

“Can we do that again?” she asks sweetly. He smiles at that.

“Of course.”

He doesn’t know how many times he kisses her, but at some point it gets late and she has to get home. She kisses him one last time and gets in a cab, with a promise to text him once she gets safe back home. He takes the bus and quickly gets to the still empty apartment. He leaves his phone and keys by the table and takes a long shower, hoping to clear out his mind some and think about how will he deal with the Thenn situation. So far he hasn’t been cornered in a empty alley, so maybe they won’t be too harsh on him.

When he gets out, he puts on some clothes and heads to the kitchen to prepare some dinner.But Arya is already there, sitting on the table holding his no-longer-hidden M1911 and his cellphone in her hand.

“So.” Her eyes are angrier than a rabid dog’s when she looks up at him. “First, you’re going to tell me what the hell are you planning on doing with the daughter of the District Judge-”

“Arya, I-”

“Then you will tell me why the fuck are you doing business with the Thenns and lastly, how the fuck do you plan on preventing yourself from getting killed or from getting out cover blown up.”

“Arya, I-”

“Because Stannis Baratheon want to have you over his house for dinner, and Sigorn Thenn wants you dead.”

Fuck his life.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuuhh.... what do you think?


	3. Chapter 3

Once, when Rickon was still a boy, Bran had fallen during one of his climbs. He had been reckless and broken a leg. His mother and father had been angry at him but ultimately had treated and nursed him and kindly help him recover. Rickon himself remembers getting lost once in the grocery store and his parents berating him when they found him but holding him close anyway. So he knows the look. The look parents get when they’re angry at you because they’re worried. Arya looks like that with her big sad grey eyes and he immediately feels worse that he already did.

 “You’re gonna tell me everything. Now.”

 The words stumble out of his mouth before he can stop himself. And as he reveals to Arya all the shit he has done, all he can think of is what his mother taught them: that good and honest work is the only work they had to do in their lives. He thinks of his father, who told them they could be anything they wanted, as long as it was honest and didn’t hurt anyone. He thinks about the extra bucks he made by stealing people’s cars, money he used to buy wool sweaters instead of useless synthetic ones, to buy decent shoes for the rain instead of sneakers that get his feet wet on rainy days, to buy things that seemed so necessary.

 Starks who were supposed to be honorable.

 But all Starks were dead and as he confessed to his sister how he had stupidly believed that getting into this business would be a good idea, he thought of how many times must have Arya tortured herself with that concept. Because they did everything to survive, all the things that his father would have frowned upon. But he was dead now, were all his teachings useless? Why was everything so confusing? Why did it hurt so much to remember that things were not supposed to be this way?

 “Rickon” Arya is holding his hand, her voice soft and he can’t handle it when she acts soft. It’s seems so much easier to make her angry. It seems so much easier to deal with anger than sadness. “What else happened? Why is he so angry?”

 “Because I chickened out. And I ran.” his voice cracks.

 “Oh Rickon… If you had told me-”

 “I called you!” He doesn’t mean to yell at her but he wants to scream. He wants to scream so loud that it’s not fair, that he may be stupid but it’s not fair. He needed her and he called her and she didn’t pick up. “And you didn’t answer.”

 “I’m sorry, I- how could I’ve known it was an emergency…”  Arya looks genuinely sorry and it should leave Rickon satisfied, but it doesn’t.

 It’s so unfair and it’s so confusing. He wants Arya to be more relaxed, he wants to take care of her and not the other way around but he can’t just forgive her for not picking up the phone when he needed a shoulder to cry on. She had always been there, as much as he longs for his independence  it hurts to know she can easily let go of her worry over him during a night of partying. Or something else. His sister had come home a whole day later, disheveled and feeling guilty, it was obvious what she had done.

 “Yeah well, if you hadn’t been busy fucking some asshole in a bar like a-”

 The slap didn’t hurt him. In fact he barely felt it. Arya had moved her hand but seemed to regret it half way towards his cheek and in turn she only mildly stroke him with the tip of her fingers. He remembers Shireen telling him Arya should treat him with more respect, and he wonders what would she say of this. She’d probably tell him to treat his sister with more respect too. He feels angry, he feels scared, he feels disappointed, he feels… He feels sad, which is surprisingly more draining than anything else. Is this why Arya never looks sad?  Because when she does it tires her out? He feels so tired from feeling so much in such a short span of hours that he might cry.

 And when Arya puts her arms around him and just holds him, the tears fall unbidden from his eyes. Shit, why is he crying so much lately?

 “I’m sorry,” Arya murmurs against his hair. “I know I was too harsh. I was just worried because Sigorn was very threatening and Stannis knew dad…”

 “I know. I’m so sorry. I’m always screwing up.” He mumbles out even as he feels Arya shock her head. “If it wasn’t for me you would’ve been better all this years.” It’s true. It’s so goddamn true and he knows.

 “No, no, no…” Arya gives him a kiss in the forehead and he feels better already. Arya was never particularly affectionate after the wedding, not that he blames her, and it always surprises him how much better he can feel when she gives some affection. “You’re the only thing in my world that matters, little brother.”

 He holds her close, because he remembers, he remembers the Arya who came home drunk that night rambling about Stark honor and holding him close and snuggling up to him like a child.

 “I’m sorry Arya. I know I screwed up.” He knows he did, and he will mend it. He doesn’t know how, doesn’t know where to start really. “I don’t want to fuck up anymore.” I don’t want to worry you anymore, he wants to say. I don’t want to be your burden. 

“It’s ok, it’s ok. Everything will be ok.” She mutters. He really wants to believe it.

 But he doesn’t. Not really. Arya kisses him on the forehead, tells him that they will speak about the Shireen issue the next day and goes to take her own shower. Meanwhile, he prepares some fried eggs with potatoes so they can eat, and he wonders how he can fix the situation. He runs his hands through his hair in frustration, but finds himself with no answer. He’s terrified, really. And he can’t think of anything when he’s terrified. Honestly, since he was eight years old, every single time he has felt terrified, Arya has handled the situation.

 He’s just finishing putting the potatoes in the boiling water when he decides to check his phone. “Father wants you to come over for dinner this friday. That’s ok? I don’t mind telling him not yet.” Shireen has written.

 Well, if he’s going to die due to gang violence, he might as well make Shireen happy. He texts her “I’ll be there on friday” before Arya even comes out of her shower.

 */*

 “Ok, let me see.” Arya asks as he makes his way towards the door.

 “Seriously? C’mon…” Her brother huffs, but walks towards her and opens his backpack anyway for her to inspect. the inside is a mess but ultimately follows her latest rule: no guns. “I don’t understand why you don’t want me to defend myself  in case something happens.”

 “Nothing will happen, I keep telling you. I will take care of it. You will survive with your pocket knife.” She had told him the same for the past few days, but it was today she was gonna handle it. She checks every day before Rickon goes out that there’s no one following him, and she called Jaqen to ask for someone to keep an eye on him during the day. He said someone would be on to it, but one day she’d have to pay it back. It was ok. She didn’t mind owning him favors and she didn’t want Rickon carrying firearms.

 “I want to deal with it, I’m old enough-” Rickon starts once again, but she was having none of his shit. He had done enough on his own. Her beloved reckless little brother.

 “You know what you’re old enough to deal with? Acne! Here, “ she zips his backpack and shoves it at him. “You have a zit on your nose, little vandal.” Her brother makes a horrified face and runs to check himself on the mirror. She simply shakes her head.

 “I knew there was a reason it was itching so much this morning! I kept scratching it during breakfast, ugh!” Rickon was checking himself out in different angles, looking more and more ridiculous by the minute.

 “Rickon, you have a gang after your. It’s just a zit. Have some perspective.” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his demeanor.

 “Arya, girls keep liking guys after they’re dead. But they don’t keep liking guys after they get acne.” He answers nonchalantly. Oh Gods, puberty was going to make Arya crazy, and it wasn’t even her puberty.

 “I really don’t think Shireen will start complaining about marks on your face.” She tells him and doesn’t wait for his answer at her brutally honest comment. She opens the door and goes outside, checking as always  that there isn’t anyone out there who shouldn’t be there. She stands on the outdoor stairs as she waits for Rickon to come out, smoking a cigarette and noticing a blue car parked in the corner. The same car has been there since she called Jaqen. She know her brother is looked after for the day.

 Rickon leaves not soon after, irritated and anxious, as he had been all weak. She leaves her bag ready before taking her shower. Running her hands through her soaked and soapy body, she runs the plan in her mind. Jaqen had called her and told her he needed her to get some secrets out of a corrupt cop.

 Her dress is short, casual and black. She checks herself in the mirror half a hundred times,but avoid looking at her own eyes. In another time, if she had looked at a woman dressed like this, she and Sansa would’ve whispered on her slutty dress. She finally locks eyes with her reflection and cringes. _My father’s eyes_ , she thinks. She can hear his voice in her head, reprimanding her for being so judgeful of people, reminding her that even sex workers were mostly women who were desperate and had no one to help them. And here she is, ready to do it with a man just to hear his secrets and receive some money from them.

 She lets out a sarcastic laugh at the thought, because crying about it would only ruin her make-up.

 The deed is done so easily, she’s surprised. The men is spending his free day in the bar, and it’s so easy to put some pills to confuse him a bit and it’s even easier to go inside his apartment. She kisses him and touches him as he likes it, closing her eyes and imagining bright blue eyes and strong muscled arms, slowly but surely winning his confidence until he spills some truths and clues here and there. He falls asleep easily and she steals his laptop with no problem.

 Jaqen is waiting for her in a black sedan two blocks away, and she slips in and shivers at the change of temperature.

 “Here, there’s the laptop. I made a mental note of shit that might be his password, I’ll text them to you later...” She says as the car starts. The driver hands her the duffel back she gave them earlier with her normal clothes.

 “How did you manage that?” Jaqen asks impressed, surely already going through the plans of hiring a hacker.

 “I kept on charming him and playing twenty questions. Idiot really though I was interested. My bet is that the password is his sister’s birthday. The guy couldn’t stop talking about her .” She explained as she put her jeans on and changed her heels for sneakers.

 “Oh girl, you’re so good for this business.” He laughs. “I’ll give you all your payment in cash by the end of the week, is that ok?.”

 “Yeah, no problem.” She takes off the dress, sitting there just in a bra as she puts her t-shirt on. It doesn’t bother her, he has seen her in less. “So, are you telling me why am I doing this kind of job? We usually deal more with the whole getting proof for desperate lawyers, personal grudges or mafia war intel stuff.”

 Jaqen stares at her with no answer, and she knows she had asked a question with  dangerous implications. “Some people in high charges are noticing patterns of corruption within the police, the judging system, the bureaucracy. Some people are desperate for information on how dirty the whole government is.”

 She thinks of the Boltons, who rule the North now. They’re certainly dirty. But who would go against them? They say the whole south supports them.

 “Are you telling me people within are trying to crack the rule of the Boltons? That would mean either their allies left them  or people here are finally organizing themselves.”

 Jaqen is mute, but there’s a smirk on his face. “You’re too smart for a girl of the streets.”

 She doesn’t say anything, because she has always been sure that Jaqen knows more of her that he lets on. It should bother her, considering the guy rules over a large group of what he calls “private spies outside the law”, but it doesn’t. If anything, she has always feared authorities. Boltons and their friends the Lannisters, who she saw in nightmares setting fire to her home or killing wedding guests.

 “So… were you able to-”

 “Yes.” Jaqen says, and she has to bite back a smile. She’s finally ending this shit.

 The driver stops somewhere near port. Jaqen gets out and she follows him through the empty abandoned dock. Kneeled and bound between two armed men is Sigorn.

 “I’m very grateful for this.” she lets Jaqen know as they approach.

 “Just don’t do anything stupid.” He tells her. “We can’t kill him you know? It would be too much of a danger for us.”

 “I don’t plan on killing him.” She lets him know and sets her face in a firm expression. “Now put on your intimidating face.”

 They reach the three men, and Jaqen -lips pursed and eyes glaring with anger - gives one signal and they ungag Sigorn. The bastard has the gall to look smug even in this situation.

 “Arya Snow. My my, and here I thought you were just the cute sister of that boy.” The tone in his voice is so sardonic she feels like punching him already, but if there’s something she has learned through the years is to control her emotions. “You’ve got more wolf in you that I thought.”

 The last comment strikes her as odd, but lets it pass. She has more urgent matters.

 “Shut up. You’re gonna tell me what you have planned and you’re gonna do it now.” She stares into his eyes, which are surprisingly dark, and she tries not to think of another man with dark grey eyes.

 “And why would I do that?” He spats, and then her fist connects with the side of his face easily. It makes her hand hurt, but she bites her lip. He won’t crack that easily, she knows, and there will be more job for her knuckles.

 “Because I can do this all day and night if it’s necessary.” It’s actually a lie since she has to be at the restaurant at one, but whatever. Sigorn turns to look at her as if her punch had no effect.

 “Yeah right, that one barely hu-” this time it’s a kick to his stomach. He lets out a whine and bends forward.

 “I won’t stop until you tell me what you plan to do to him and what can I do to stop it.” He’s ignoring her, still bending forward, so she crouches and punches him in the chin, so his head is up again. She waits and ignores the ache in her knuckles, but he’s unresponsive. She’s putting her foot back to prepare for another kick, when his desperate voice comes out.

 “Alright, Alright, Alright!” he says, his tone thin and whiny. “Listen, listen…. I wish I didn’t have to, ok?” He’s looking at her and she can see the honesty in his eyes. To look at them it’s just as unsettling as before.

 “My brother…”

 “I know he’s just a kid, ok? I gave him the easiest jobs, for a fair amount of cash… because I actually like him.” His confession caughts her off guard, and it must show in his face because he shrugs his shoulder and nods in confirmation. “Seriously, I’m not joking. But my father…. He says a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, and he demands all weak link be killed off.”

 “But… he’s just a kid.”

 “You think I didn’t tell him that? But he rules with an iron fist, no matter how much we dislike it in the band, we still gotta do what he says ‘cause that’s the way of things. He demands any useless or ineffective member be immediately eliminated, no matter the mistake.”

 "Charming man, your old man.” Jaqen whispers. She’s frozen, unsure of what to do now that she realises Sigorn is just following orders.

 “Tell me about it.” Sigorn snorts. “I hate him. We all do. But we can’t risk not doing what he says. I’ve got a wife. Others have children.”

 “Then,” she announces, “I’ll have to deal with your father.”

 “Don’t put your hopes up sweetheart. Accept the facts and spend some quality time with your brother before he’s gone.”

 “I won’t let anything happen to him.” She can feel Jaqen’s eyes on her, probably noticing her trembling hands or her reddened cheeks, clear signs she’s desperately trying to keep her emotions in check. “Not ever, he’s my little brother and I must protect him.”

 “He won’t change his mind, no matter how much you talk to him. Give it up or you will just end up like collateral damage.” Sigorn warns her with brutal honesty. He looks her up and down again, and the smirk is back to his face. “And that would be such a waste…”

“Who says I’m gonna talk to him?”

 */*

 Lunch hour finds them both in the back of the school, Shireen eating a wrap and Rickon munching on a burger. He sits in the grass with her right next to him, distracted by the beautiful day, trying to ignore what feels like a raining cloud above his head. Shireen’s voice is soft as she asks him something he doesn’t catch. “What?”

 She lets out a small laugh, and runs her fingers through his hair, sending fireworks to the rest of his body. “I asked if you were ok, you seem distracted.”

 “Yeah, I’m just… somewhere else.” He admits. He runs his finger through her hair, letting them get tangled in the shiny dark locks. Her hair is always soft and smells nice.

 “I could tell” she lets her head fall on him shoulder, and the scent of her shampoo reaches him. He tries to ignore the part of him that wants to snuggle even closer to her to feel her better, closer, warmer. “Is it school stuff?”

 “Nah. Just… stuff.” He tilts his face away so she won’t catch his expression. “Stuff back home, the usual.”

 The good thing about being completely poor when compared to Shireen is that he can always use the money excuse when she asks for his worried expression or his bad mood. It does not save him for the questions about his family. He has given her the usual sad backstory Arya and him prepared, but still sometimes he fantasizes about showing her Winterfell, Shireen holding his hand tightly as he shows her all the historical treasures that had been kept in the old castle for generations.

 “Well… Are you sure you’re ok with coming tonight?” She asks softly.

 “Careful… don’t sound too eager to get rid of me!”

 “It’s not that... it’s just that..-Well I haven’t dated many boys but I know the don’t like things to go fast and maybe meeting my family is-” Shireen is mumbling, looking down ashamed in the way that always makes him simultaneously angry at all the people who were shits to her and swoon at how cute she can get when she’s not annoying him with homework.

 “Hey hey…” He clasps her hands in his, kissing them lightly. “It’s ok. It’s important to you so it’s important to me.”

 Shireen blushes, the soft skin of her cheeks reddening and the greyish scars darkening.  Letting her head fall on his shoulder, he bites his lip as he munches over whether or not to tell her that things will only get complicated from now on. As always, he tries not to think of how simple it would all be if things were like before. His father knew Shireen’s dad. Stannis would probably be glad his daughter was dating a young Stark boy.

 But he is not a Stark now. He’s a Snow, dating a girl far above him. He knows Stannis won’t approve and Rickon has no idea how will he impress him.

 “Should I wear something fancy?”

 “No.  Just try to wear clean jeans and an ironed shirt.” Shireen answers.

 “Ok. I’ll tell Arya to iron my clothes.”

 “What?!” Shireen shrieks and he smiles at her indignation. He loves seeing her get all angry and feminist.

 “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever even needed ironed clothes.” He admits, scratching his jaw lazily. Shireen is turning, her mouth hanging open in a ridiculously cute way. “Or wearing a shirt to a dinner.”

 “You make Arya iron your clothes?”  Shireen is using her angry feminist voice.

 “Don’t you have a maid ironing your clothes?” He retorts.

 “Yes, well we pay her, is in her contract. It’s a legitimate job. And for your information if I need something done last minute I do it myself thank you very much.”

 “I don’t know how to do it! I’m a boy!” He says and chuckles at Shireen’s growing frustration.

 “Gods Rickon I swear, you’re the worst!” He tries to wrap his arms around her but she playfully pushes him away. “Let me go you oaf, if you think only girls need to learn-”

 His kissed her suddenly but it feels as blissful as the slow kisses she gives him when they say goodbye. Shireen’s lips are soft, like the rest of her; her skin, her hair, her voice, her smile.

 Things between them aren’t simple, but damn it if they aren’t nice. They’re worth it.

 */*

The first thing that comes to Gendry’s mind as he parks is what his siblings and cousin would say of his actions. Mya would say it’s ridiculous, Edric would say it’s very friendly and outgoing of him and Shireen would say it’s freaking romantic. None of them sound much like him, but then again, how he met Arya is not like him at all, so maybe they’re meant to step out of their comfort zones. He rubs his hands against his jeans before walking towards the doors of the restaurant. As he steps in, the hostess walks towards him.

 “Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to Green Mermaid. Table for one only?”

 “Hi, good afternoon. Um…” He smiles nervously, and the hostess looks at him expecting an answer. “Listen um, I’m looking for a girl… she works as a waitress here. Her name is Arya, Arya Snow.”

 “Oh, yes, Arya works here, but she’s not here now. Would you like to leave a message?” She’s kind, although he can tell she’s a bit suspicious.

 “No no… And is she coming over today at some point?”

 “Well, uhm… you’re not some stalker ex boyfriend are you?” She asks nervously and he lets out a laugh.

 “What? No, no, not at all. We uh… we know each other and we get on well. I just…. wanted to talk to her about her brother, Rickon.” That’s a lie and he’s surprised he can pull it off, since he’s an awful liar who couldn’t even lie even if his life depended on it.

 The hostess smiles. “Oh, ok. Well, her shift starts in thirty minutes, but I’m afraid I can’t have her up here in the front having a conversation with you. Or having a conversation with a client during work hours at all for that matter.” She admits.

 “I understand… what time does her shift end? Maybe I can come then?”

 “Sure… Uhm… she gets off at nine.”

 “Thanks I’ll…. I think I’ll be back then, since waiting for her seems stupid if we can’t really talk. Thanks a lot.”

 He busies himself the rest of the afternoon. Usually his fridays are pretty lazy. His uncle gave him an administrative job in the Dragonstone company and as such he has certain privileges. Stannis family used to have a business in metal manufacturing with obsidian, but since he took a job in public service he let the administration to Davos Seaworth.  Davos was a self-made men who gave Gendry a job supervising different operations, and slowly taught him lots of life lessons.

 He knows he’s got a dinner later, so he irons his shirt and cleans his shoes so everything is ready for the time he gets to the house. He cleans up his apartment and then sees some games on tv. Then he decides to go back the the Green Mermaid, this time by the back of the restaurant. He sees a lot of people coming in, surely those of the last shift and then little by little people start coming out of the back door. Finally, Arya comes out, hair in ponytail, tired face on and a cigarette in her mouth. She heads straight for the bus stop.

 “Hey! Arya!” He calls for her and she turns frowning, which seems to be her go-to expression. She walks hesitantly towards him.

 “Hi, Gendry.” Her voice is husky and smoky and as incredibly attractive as he remembers. She seems reluctant to come too close to say hi, so he just smiles from afar. “What are you doing here?”

 “I was wondering if we could talk.” He feels his body react to the sudden nervousness and he silently thanks for the little light there is so she can’t see him blushing.

 “I can’t, I’m actually…” she seems to be about to laugh and he realises she must be thinking he’s here for something else entirely.

 “Wait, no it’s not what you think, I-” He lets out a nervous laugh, and she bites her lip but smiles too, almost as if she’s trying to resist letting out a laugh. “I really just want to talk.”

 Immediately her smile is gone, instead a sad expression takes over. “Gendry, don’t. I already told you it was a-”

 “Please. I can give you a ride. I only want to tell you some stuff, and then if you want I won’t ever come to this restaurant.” He begs. Gendry can see she’s seriously thinking about it, but she turns to look at the bus stop, filled with workers waiting, and then looks at his car. She nods and begins walking towards him and the car.

 The first minutes of the ride are silent and Gendry’s hands are holding the wheel a bit tightly. He gets to the end of the street and stops there. “You… uh… I need directions.”

 “Take the highway so you’re near the port by the east. Then go down Lazyeel street as if you were going to Wolf’s Den prison. Two blocks before you get there turn right until you see the old tower blocks.” She said it all very fast and did not look at him. He guessed she was trying not to sound ashamed of living in one of the most dangerous and ugliest places of the city. He starts the car without a word. He knows what it’s like to be a little ashamed of saying your addresss.

 “Listen Arya, I’ve been meaning to tell you something. To talk after.... after we run into each other here in the restaurant the other day.”

 “It’s ok, I know you’re not a stalker.” She says right away, “and I guess I should thank you the generous tip.”

 “No problem. But I…. it’s about. Listen I can tell you’ve got… your way of doing things but I’d…. well…” He trails off because he’s never ever been good at this and even if he is looking at the road he can feel Arya’s stare. “I’d really like it if we could go out some time.”

 A red light comes and he stops, giving him an opportunity to look at Arya. Her head is crooked to the side as she looks at him. She seems sad, but just barely, as if she were trying to hide it. He feels something heavy sink inside his stomach.

 “Listen Gendry…. you’re a nice guy but….” her voice is kind, kinder than he expected. Almost pitiful. “I can’t. It’s too complicated.”

 “But why?” He can hear her groan quietly at his question. She does however let out a loud sight.

 “I can’t explain.” And then she turns her head towards the window and the light is green again. It seems incredible, his heart was racing just minutes ago, but not it seems he’s been struck unconscious. He can’t quite grasps why she affects him so, but that’s exactly what he came to tell her but it seems pointless to say it now. But damn it, he’s stubborn.

 “Ok, I can respect you  have your issues but…” he slows down a bit so he can think properly how to put into words what he wants to say, “I just though… I mean, I was sure you felt it too. We… I’ve never felt something like that.”

 Maybe he’s just embarrassing himself. Maybe the fact that he has gotten so many things in such a little time has messed with his head, making him think that all the things he wants come true. But he’s just so sure she can’t deny that something else happened between them. Some sort of connection, a certain compatibility he can’t quite explain. Arya runs her hand through her hair, and he wishes he could see her, but they are on the highway and he can’t divert his gaze. But he can imagine her there looking confused or irritated, grey eyes looking at him, biting her lip in frustration. Then, in a voice he would never think he would hear of her, she replies.

 “Yes, I felt it too.” He can’t help the grin that takes over his face, the relief that rushes through his body, that he wasn’t being creepy or becoming crazy.  That that night he wasn’t the only one who felt something different than just sexual attraction. “But I can’t. We’re too different and-”

 “But we’re not!” he’s quick to point out, stealing a glance towards her and watching her roll her eyes. “Really! I’m not like, I’m not like Stannis or Shireen…We’re more similar than you think.”

 “Oh really? So eating in the Green Mermaid or having a nice car and a nice apartment with a view sounds to you like things I enjoy?”

 “That’s who I am now, but it’s not who I was. It’s not the reality in which I was born, in which I grew up. I come from Flea Bottom, you know where that is?” He takes the exit and there’s a bit of traffic, so he can look at her properly. She seems shocked at his revelation.

 “King’s Landing…” She mutters, and her eyes are filled with curiosity, as people’s eyes always tend to be when they hear his short version of his story.”Really?”

 “Yes. You uh… ever heard of Robert Baratheon? He’s Stannis brother.”

 “Deceased brother,” Arya points out with a dark look on her face. “Of course I’ve heard of him.”

 “Yeah well, he uh…. he’s my father.” He admits, wincing at the usual feelings that always come along when he remembers that fact. That he’s a bastard, unwanted and unexpected by both parents, abandoned by his father. Cursed with danger because he is the son of a man he never met and never cared for him.

 “What?” Arya seems once again incredibly shocked and affected by the revelation and he braces himself before he starts the story. He’s never been one to share much, but if he wants to win Arya’s trust maybe he should take the first step.

 “Before he died well, Stannis and some friends of Robert realised his children were not truly his at all. His wife had been cheating on him and passing off the children as Baratheons. And Robert he… well he had bastards of his own as well.  When they revealed it to him, he decided to recognise us all, and planned on divorcing Cersei and leaving her and her children on the streets. He kicked her out, and seeked out a lawyer.

 He stripped the three official children of any right, left them out of his will and worked hard with lawyers and his friends to see what could be done regarding Cersei. But he was killed before he could do anything. Then suddenly his other children started dying… Stannis was the only one left who knew the secret, and he seeked out some of us and escaped to Dragonstone and then North with three of us.”

 Arya was silent next to him, looking out the window. When she finally spoke, her voice was croaky, “So… you…” she didn’t go on, but he could tell she was asking for his personal experience.

 “One day, I was in the foster home…. Then suddenly this man, Davos Seaworth, comes out of nowhere and says he is taking me somewhere else for my safety. Next thing I know I’m in an island in a big dark ugly house, listening to discussions about Lannisters and Baratheons and being presented to an uncle I never knew I had, and meeting a sister first,then a younger brother and finally a lovely cousin.”

 “A family.” Arya’s voice is detached, but her eyes are glassy as she says this.

 “Yes. It’s strange, I know the Lannister family killed people and did many things wrong, but all their doing eventually let me have many thing I didn’t before. A home, a family, education, opportunities.” He turns to her then, and looks her directly in the eye, “But before all that Arya, I was like you. I knew what it was like to work several small jobs until I wanted to sleep for a century and I knew what it was like to feel lonely and desperate for help you’re never going to get.  I knew what it was like to do crappy jobs for bad pays and feel just so done with everyone.”

 Arya is quiet. She holds his gaze and he doesn’t know if she’s just completely shell shocked or thinking or anything. She lets out a breath, and then comments, “your uncle seems like a neat guy.”

 He smiles at that one, because his uncle is not too friendly or nice or warm, but he is decent, and respectful, and worried about thing like justice, family and honesty. “Yeah, once you get to know him. You remind me of him sometimes.” He admits and she seems even more shocked at this. He drives slowly as they are arriving but he keeps an eye on her.

 “So the Lannisters were behind the murder of Robert Baratheon…” her voice is serious and low, it would even seem threatening. He himself can’t help but sound furious when he answers.

 “Yes.” The injustice of it all still disgusts him, it still makes his blood boil. “They killed Robert in a wedding along with lots of his friends and their families and their friends and families. They also killed children and mothers and got away with it because they have power in all the bloody corrupt Southern cities so authorities claimed it was a terrorist attack from the East.”

 They get to the apartment complex and he stops the car, but the Arya who was asking questions and getting  shocked at his answers is gone, and instead is replaced by a closed attitude.

 “Arya…”

 “Thanks for sharing that.” she starts, and he can tell she’s making an effort to look detached. “But I-” 

“Listen, I’m not asking you to tell me your life story now, ok? Or even to start dating. We don’t have to rush or force anything” Now he runs his hands through his hair, nervous again of being rejected. “I would just like it if we could… we could… just become closer, hang out. Maybe even become friends, who knows.” 

Arya is quiet, but her eyes are changing, they remain distant but not nearly as cold. Her voice is hesitant when she speaks. “I could go along with that.” She smiles. It immediately makes him smile back.  “Right now though, I have to go.” 

“Yeah, me too. I have a dinner over at my uncle.”

“Is Rickon going?” She asks, and he’s a bit surprised. 

“Of course, Shireen is finally introducing it to all the family,” he says she only shakes her head, “he didn’t tell you?” 

“He only told me he was going out later…” she lets out a sight and gives him a sad smile. “He’s not telling me much these days.” She admits, and he can tell she’s affected by her brother’s attitude. 

“That sucks. But he’s a teenager, it’s what teenagers do.” He hands her over his cellphone, and she takes it confused. “So you can save your number.”

 She smiles again, and hands him her own. “Can we have booty calls?” she jokes as they both type.

 They both laugh at that one, gives back their respective phones and says their goodbye.

 

*/*

 Her hands tremble the whole afternoon, as the maid fixes the dining room, as her mom watches over the cook,  and as her cousins call to confirm their attendance. She doesn’t know if Rickon may go up, but she tidies up her room and gets rid of anything embarrassing just in case. She also makes sure the picture of her family in the hall where she’s eleven and with the most horrible braces disappears mysteriously. She showers and spends a great portion of time putting cream everywhere on her body so she smells nice and dries her hair carefully so there is no frizz. Her final touch is a pretty black and yellow headband, which pulls her hair back entirely and leaves her face free of locks of hair. She’s finishing putting some mascara when her mothers enters her bathroom, smiling at herself.

 “Don’t you want to straighten your hair?” She offers, running her hair through her long locks. She doesn’t really mind having her hair straighten or not, but her mother hardly ever gets the chance to help her prepare for a boy, so she nods and sits on the toilet as her mother takes off the headband and plugs in the hair iron.

 Shireen closes her eyes as her mother divides her hair and combs it, relaxing at her mother’s touch. She grew up more around with nannies and housekeepers than with her parents, for her mother was involved in politics and her father had a career in law that then led to a place in Government. They were gone a lot, with meeting and parties and reunions and charities. But she’s fond of them, she know her father is overprotective and her mother caring. They always called, even if phone calls were short, and whenever she had problems at some school -and she had many - at least one of them took the time off their work to go back home and deal with the situation and support her. Her favorite childhood memories were sneaking into their room as they got ready for some dinner or gala, watching her father suit up and her mother apply her make up. They’d tuck her in bed before they left, but she’d be restless until she heard them come back.

 They’re not a normal family, she knows, but she loves them nonetheless.

“You look very pretty darling. That blouse… it’s the one I got you from Highgarden isn’t it?”

“Yes mom. I haven’t gotten a chance to wear it yet.” There is silence as her mother works on her hair, and she knows she’s got something to say.

 “Your cousins are coming?”

 “Yes. All of them.”

 “Are they bringing anyone with them? I forgot to check on that.”

 “No. Mya is still not over her break-up with Myranda. And you know Edric, he’s way too shy to get a girlfriend on his first year of college. Same with Gendry.”

 “So I guess you and me will be the only ones with a date uh?” Her mother jokes. It’s a bad joke but she smiles anyway. “Now, don’t get any ideas of bringing this young man into your room tonight.”

 “Mom!” This, her hair trapped inside the hair iron with the chances of her mother burning it, was not an easy moment to escape the sex talk.

 “Listen to me Shireen. I’m sure he’s charming and kind and funny-”

 “No, he’s not.” She mutters and Gods please don’t let her mother continue.

 “....But boys your age only want one thing.” Her mother smothers her hair and looks at her pointedly from her reflection on the mirror. “Sex.”

 “Mom. Rickon is not my age. He’s two years younger.” she points out as she tries to forget the fact her mother said the word ‘sex’.

 “Boys his age only want one thing,” she says as she starts with another section of hair. “Getting to first base.”

 She prefers to bite her tongue about that one. She stays quiet and still as her mother finishes. There’s an awkward silence in the room, and it’s uncomfortable until her mother finishes and hugs her from behind.

 “My little girl.” She says as she looks at their reflection in the mirror. They don’t look much alike, except for the ears. Her mother gives her a kiss in the cheek, and places the headband on her head. “Just be careful my love. It is nice to have fun when you’re young but take it easy. You have a whole life ahead of you to meet people and fall in love.”

 “Is this because he’s poor? Because he’s a common Snow from public school?” She needs to ask, because her family has never seemed classit in her eyes but how can she know? The point of privilege is that you never need to question why things happen. Would her mother tell her this same things if she was dating a Frey or a Tyrell?

 Her mother smiles, that typical smile mother give when you have not gotten the message at all.

 “No, my love. This is because you’re young and only a year away from leaving school. You’re young and so smart and so lucky to have so many possibilities for you. And I want you to achieve all the dreams you want for yourself: journeys, schools abroad... “

 “What does that have to do with Rickon?”

 “Because, you seem so involved with this boy. This boy who won’t be able to follow your footsteps easily. Shireen,” her mother holds her chin and she hates being babied this way. “I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud you have more confidence and trust in yourself and others. And I am happy that you found someone that makes you happy. Just remember,” her mother lets out a breath and looks at her directly in the eye with honest eyes. “Getting a boyfriend should never be something that ties you back, ok? Even if it is for reasons as unlucky as a class difference.”

 She looks down at her hands, her pretty clean soft hands. They’re different than Rickon’s... His hands are rough and bony. “Mom.”

 “Have a nice time, enjoy your relationship with Rickon but please don’t rush into anything ok?” Her mother gives her a kiss on her forehead,and leaves her alone with her thoughts. But before she can process anything the doorbell rings. She finished hurriedly and unplugs the hair iron.

 She sprints from the bathroom and runs down the stairs, much to the chagrin of her father who shouts some reproach from his study. She can hear Mya and Edric laughing in the living room but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care because when she opens the door and Rickon is there, looking dashing with his wild auburn locks mildly tamed and a shirt that she’s sure Arya didn’t iron because it’s honestly a bit wrinkled.

 “Hey.” he says nervously.

 “Hi.” She gives him a peck on the cheek and takes his hand. His rough calloused bony hand that she absolutely loves feeling around her much smaller one. “C’mon, my cousins are in the living room.”

 He lets himself being dragged, but before they go through the doors he pulls her aside. “Hey,” his eyes are infinitely blue as their gazes meet. She wished it was a bit more proper to hold him tight in the foyer. “I really like your hair like this.” His fingers run through her long straight locks, sending shivers down her spine. “I like seeing your face…” he kisses her cheek, making her skin burn, “your eyes…” his lips are close to her jaw when they’re interrupted.

 “Shireen C’mon! I want to meet him!” Mya shouts. She bites her lip, trying not to think of biting Rickon’s lip and once again starts dragging him to the living room.

 Gendry and Edric are talking by the fireplace drinking something while Mya is looking up something in her phone. As soon as they walk in her cousins immediately begin looking at Rickon.

 “There you are!” Mya smiles and approaches them. “I’ve been wanting to meet you ever since Shireen told me about you.”

 “Rickon, this is Mya, Edric and of course you already know Gendry.” She can feel his strong grip and she squeezes his hand to reassure him.

 “Hi, everyone. Nice to meet you.” His voice is not as strong as always, but he seems normal aside from that.

 “Edric,” her cousin shakes his hand and smiles at him.

 “Hey man.” Gendry shakes hands with Rickon and nod. She shoots him a pleading look, silently asking him to smoother things out during dinner.

 Just then, the doors open again, and there is her mother and father. Her mom smiles and comes closer, offering her hand to Rickon. “Hello, I’m Selyse Baratheon.”

 “Hello Mrs. Baratheon.” Rickon says, respect clear in his voice. Then, her father comes forward.

 Stannis Baratheon had a reputation of having harsh eyes and a permanent frown. Truly in her youth she hadn’t seen him laugh much less of all smile, but to her she had always been her kind dad. Not one to give many hugs and kisses but still someone willing to sit next to her and help her with homework whenever she asked for help. Despite whatever was said of him, he was her favorite member of the family and she hoped he and Rickon got along.

 “Mr. Baratheon.” Rickon says,and surprisingly less fear on his voice. Something in his tone almost seems like courage. “Pleased to meet you sir.” He offers his hand.

 Her father eyes her boyfriend intensely, as if looking for something hidden in plain sight. He looks at Rickon up and down, his icy eyes stopping in his face with an almost shocked expression. Finally, he shakes Rickon’s hand. “Same. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for some time. I had an image of you but I must admit I’m… more than surprised.” Her father lets go of his hand, but his eyes stay locked to Rickon’s. She feels her boyfriend subtly shudder at the harsh gaze.

 “Why don’t we go inside the dinner room? I’m starving.” Gendry offers, and everyone agrees as they follow him inside.

 Let the fun begin.

 

*/*

 Her legs tremble slightly as she walks towards the club. She’s not used to such a high heeled boots and the shorts. But she gulps down her fears and enters the building. Down the stairs and pass the guards is Styr Thenn’s favorite place: his cage fighting club. Filled with scum who came to bet on the desperate fighters, the low quality alcohol and women finding how to earn some coins.  She has a message from Rickon telling her he will be tale and one from Gendry telling her brother is at the Baratheon house. She lets out a sigh and takes another look at the place.

 It doesn’t take long to spot him, surrounded by goons and women in little clothing, loudly cheering over the rest of the public and calling out for his friends. A mature man, still more intimidating than his son, with his harsh grey eyes.

 I can’t look at his eyes, she thinks. “If I look at them I will lose.” she mutters as she gets closer. She knows how to do this. She knows how to get his attention. It’s easy. He’s a big boss, he will want to show some display of control. She can play the ‘first time in a place like this’ card and he would fall right for it.

 She sits close to his group for nearly forty minutes. Subtly looking his way and locking her eyes with his before shyly looking at he fight again. Before long, the one starting the looks was him. She feels his gaze on her exposed skin, feels his longing in the way he doesn’t look away once she notices him.

 It always strikes her as odd, the way men are attracted to her. She doesn’t understand. Gendry is one thing, as much as she’d like to deny it, there is definitely something there that pulls her to him. But the rest of men… she hardly ever pays them attention, but she can sense the way they stare at her like some prize to be won, like something to posses and tame.

 Styr signals for her to come closer, and she stands up and walk while moving her hips as much as possible. As she’s approaching he says something to the people surrounding him, and she doesn’t need to read his lips to know he’s shooing away the girls and his friends. when she’s close to him, there are only two men behind him. She doesn’t can’t look at his eyes, so dark and grey, but it only makes her seem more timid.

 “Hello doll.” He smirks. In his youth, he must have been attractive, in a rough commanding sort of way. “Come’re.” He pats the seat next to his. She sits as close to him as possible. And smiles only to look away. “What’s your name?”

 “Jeyne sir. Mister.” she says shyly. She shudders on purpose and she feels his warm arm coming up around here.

 “Hey don’t be nervous. No need to call me ‘sir’ or ‘mister’.”

 “Sorry, I’ve- I’ve never been here before.” She says as she snuggles close to him. One of the fighters throws a particularly harsh punch, and she pretends to be slightly shocked at the blood.

 

“Poor thing. I knew it was your first time here from the way you looked at everything. Who sent you?” He asked as he ran his hand up and down her arm. It took her too long to realised he was probably talking about a pimp, so she just looked away pretending to be ashamed. “No need to worry darling. There’s been a lot of new girls lately…. It’s this bad times you see…. they make everyone desperate for some money….”

 She nods sadly, as if to make him think she’s some first timer scared of the business. She can practically feel his ego grow as he ponders the idea of being her first one. She feels one of his hand run up her thigh and she throws her head back and looks to his two bodyguards. She’s thinking how to get rid of them when she feels him cupping her breast. “Oh.” She practically jumps in surprise. She’s starting to feel disgusted and her body feels nothing but repulsion to his touch, but thankfully Styr seems to think her squirming is mere nervousness.

“That’s ok Jeyne…. everything will be alright.”

He wants a child to protect, to be her first man. She realises this is an opportunity to use his desire to get rid of his goons. “I’m not scared of you but….” she looks down and then at his eyes. They’re grey. a dark dark grey that makes her feel more repulsed with herself than him, if that’s possible. Her head jerks away automatically. It takes her a few seconds to even her breath, and by then Styr is making her turn to him with his finger on her jaw.

“What is it? You don’t have to worry, I’ll make sure you have a great time…”

“I know it’s just….” she glances at his goons and places a hand on his chest. She whispers in his ear delicately “those two make me so nervous you see.” He opens his mouth and she knows he’s going to tell her he won’t send them away, so she acts fast and rubs herself against him. Her hand goes to his arm, squeezing his muscles. “I know they’re here to protect you but I- I want- I need more privacy you see. You’re so strong…. what do you need them for?”

She hardly finishes the sentence before his mouth is devouring hers. His tongue leaves a sour taste in her mouth and she wishes she could just push him away. Instead she acts surprised, as if no one had ever kissed her with lust before. It gives her a good excuse to have him do most of the kissing and she barely anything. When he breaks off the kiss, he grabs her hand and stands up. He throws one look -an obvious ‘don’t follow’ look - at those two and marches with her to some backdoor. It is when he’s dragging her that she acts. As he makes his way through people, she uses her free hand to make quick work of his gun holder. One second his handgun is in his belt and the next is in her hand. It almost felt too easy to hide it behind her tucked in her skirt. He opens a door and she follows diligently.

His room is much more decorated that she’d expect from some gang leader. She expected dingy light and mess all around, but insteads is a very neat and modern office.  She hears him locking the door and walking towards her and this is the time. Styr manages to put one hand on her hip when she turn and hits his head with the desk lamp.

“Fuck!” he shouts as he hold his head. She pull out the gun and aims. “What the-”

 "You should seriously learn to think with your head instead of your cock.” she suggest. “Now keep quiet or I blow your fucking brains out.”

 His eyes, his grey eyes, are so full of hatred but that the same time she sees something else. Almost admiration. “What do you want bitch? Money? I’d actually given us a great time and paid you you dumb whore.”

 “I am no whore.” She chokes out. She’s trying so hard from keeping her hand and her voice to tremble that she feels tense from head to toe. “My name is Arya, and I’m here to tell you to leave my fucking brother alone.”

 Styr doesn’t bother to ask who her brother is. “Don’t care who he is, I bet he deserves it.” She hits him again after that, a kick in the chin and the sound of her toe hitting his flesh is almost satisfying.

 “His name is Rickon and tell your fucking people that his business with you is finished. HE won’t contact you again, I’ll make sure of that. And you! You leave him the fuck alone!”

 Styr gives her one cruel smile and laughs. “Really? That’s all you plan on doing? Holding a gun on me, make your demands and then leave? Honey you won’t even make it out of the building.”

 “Listen,” she jumps at him, and he nearly crawls back on his ass. “I heard you have to be a really tough guy to be with the Thenns, a real hard man… Well what happen when I shoot you-” this time she lowers her weapon, but only to aim at his crotch, “and you stop being a man. What happens then? Who follows your orders? I may not leave this building, but your people ain’t gonna hurt my brother anyways. Wanna know why?” There is no smirk on Styr’s face now, only hatred. “Because they wouldn’t be your people. They won’t follow a man with no balls. A man who si no man at all.”

 “You little cu-”

 “Father!” The door opens and Sigorn is there, looking at the scene with both surprise and amusement as one hand holds his keys and the other a bottle of rum. “Girl, you’re even more dangerous that I expected.”

 Her mind is racing through any possible solutions when Sigorn smirks and closes the door behind him. “Son” Styr mutters and she finally feels her hand tremble. She has a feeling that no matter what, whatever happens next will haunt her for the rest of her life. “Do it,” Sigorn says and she doesn't know who is more surprised, her or Styr. “Do it and I will keep your brother safe.”

 “What? SIGORN! What are you thinking you fucking-” Styr’s face is filled with shock and she’s too scared to do anything.

 “My wife. My Alys. You’d sided with Cregan and Arnolf for far too long to take over Karhold Industries. I don’t have your loyalty or your support so why should you have mine?” Sigorn says every word slowly, as if that made it have more sense. Arya knew nothing of this family’s feuds but when she looked at Styr, she found a man who looked at his son pleadingly, yet refused to let her little brother walk safe and free. “Do it Arya. All men must die anyway.”

 The last thing Styr does before pulling she pulls the trigger is look at her with grey eyes.

 ‘Oh Jon, what have I done?’ she thinks as Styr’s body falls to the ground. She can hardly breath and can’t shake out the image of life leaving his grey eyes. Is this how her brother left the word? alone and beyond the borders of the North, at the end of some foreigner’s gun?

 “Don’t misunderstand me, I wish my father and I had ended in better terms.” She distantly hears Sigorn voice, and she must conjure all her strength to even listen. Jon’s eyes, her eyes, her father eyes, dead. “But he risked our lives at every turn, making enemies with the wrong people and stupid alliances with even worse. I have to care for Alys now, and the son she carries. I can’t go out risking my life for my father old fashioned way of making business.”

She nods, because what else can she do? It’s not like he killed him, she did. She took the life from those dark grey eyes. Her mind is racing through every last memory that she fights everyday to suppress. The fight she gives every time she look at the mirror. Jon, Jon Snow looking back at her, in the mirror, in Sigorn’s eyes, in the dead eyes of her father and Sigorn’s father. Jon, where was he? Dead in combat far away from home? In the base, listening to the news of their deaths? Did he believe it? He’d never, he’d come to rescue them. But maybe he truly was MIA and he was no more than Styr, a dead man with grey eyes. And she would never know because she-.

 “Of course I can’t let you walk away from this, I’d lose the loyalty of those who respected my old man.” Sigorn says, and his words effectively pull her out of her trance.

“What?!”

“I say, you better run wolf girl, or you won’t live to protect your brother no more.” She gapes at him for two seconds, before she bolts out the door and races across the hall avoiding two of his goons, she feels one of them grab her arm but she throws a badly aimed punch at him that lands close to his eyes. He lets go of her and she sprints towards the exit. She pushes the door open but she feels large arms wrap around her waist and panic runs through her veins.

“Let me go!” she screams as she kicks and punches anything close to her. She hears the man who is holding complaining that she’s too wild but one fist to her stomach effectively shuts her up. She hardly notices how they drag her to a back alley.

“This will teach you!” she feels another punch directly in her eye and by then her captor lets her go, only for another one to trip her with his foot and yet another to kick her side. She screams for help, once twice, until a she loses count of the kicks and her voice is sore. Everything hurts, but the sharp pain at her side of her chest is the worse, and she feels like every breath is an immense effort. Finally, one of them stomps all over her right wrist and she can hear a crack through her scream. “That way you will never aim a gun at any of us again!”

She’d almost laugh at the irony, who knew being left-handed would ever help her? But she can’t do anything and by now it feels like her mind is somewhere else entirely. Everything is dark and there are no more men around her, only the sharp pain of her chest. She needs help, but there’s only darkness. She needs someone, anyone, to help her.

The tears begin to fall before she manages to pull out her cellphone. Everything hurts and everything is dark, and she needs her brother to help her. Her fingers work on it’s own, calling Rickon in despair. She can hear her own ragged breaths as it rings endlessly until it goes to voicemail. “No, no, no.” She needs him.

The darkness is taking her, and her fingers work on its own with only one repetitive thought in her head. She needs her brother.

 

*/*

“So, tell me Rickon, who did you inherit the red hair from?” Selyse Baratheon asks as she sips her wine. Next to her, at the head of the table, Stannis shot Rickon yet another curious look. Overall the dinner had gone very well, in a certain way. Mya was fun and witty, Edric was very much like Shireen in many ways although Rickon could tell he and Gendry had the whole ‘I’m looking at where your hands are resting’ thing going on.

“Uhm… my mom actually. Hers was even more reddish though.” He says. Mrs. Baratheon smiles gently and he needs to say something that doesn’t make everyone in this table think he’s some sad orphan boy. “I used to hate it as a kid to be honest, I wanted to look like Arya.”

 “Really?” Shireen asks, smile on her face. Gods she looks cute today. Her eyes were particularly bright and her hair looks even longer and shinier than usual. She leans closer to him and says slowly, “I like your auburn hair better.”

 Gods her perfume is so fucking nice. She needs to leave his personal space right now.

 “Edric, how is university life treating you?” Mya’s question pulls him out of his thoughts. “Meet any girls to bring home to?”

 “I uhm…I’m kinda focusing on my classes and meeting new people right now.” Edric admits,seeming much more interested in his plate than answering.

 “As he should.” Stannis says. Selyse shook her head in disapproval and Rickon pretended he did not notice her look of irritation. Shireen had confessed to him that her parents relationship wasn’t ideal but he tried to respectfully pretend he did not notice they had little patience for each other.

 “Mya, not all of us can be as social as you are.” Selyse points out.

 "I think she just wants him to bring someone home.” Shireen says, earning a smile from everyone in the table (except Stannis) and a short laugh from Mya.

 “Yeah well, I already gave up on Gendry.” She admits, shrugging her shoulders.

 “Hey! I date.”

 “Occasionally.” Shireen pipes in. “But it seems only women in this house date.”

 “Shireen.” Stannis warns her sternly but calmly.

“Does your sister tease you this much, Rickon?” Edric asks while shooting Mya a completely irritated look.

“Constantly.” he admits with a smile. He feels a pang of guilt because he didn’t tell Arya he would be here, just that he would be out until late. “But I make sure to annoy her just as much.”

“I used to tease your uncle Erren that he had ugly ears.” Selyse confesses, “And Imry too.” Rickon bites his lip to point out she didn’t particular have beautiful ears, and shoots Shireen a smile when she tries to hide her laugh from her frowning father.

“Are you from White Harbor Rickon?” Stannis asks shortly.

“Uhm, no, not really. Me and my sister moved a couple years ago.”

“But you’re from the North right? I can tell from the accent.” Mya says and he has to keep his body in check. He knows squirming or messing with his food will only make him look suspiciously nervous.

“Yeah, we uh… We used to live in Wintertown.” He says and they all look at him with shock except for Stannis, who simply raises an eyebrow. Shireen is looking at him with surprise and a tiny bit of hurt, surely because he had never told her. A part of him feels ashamed of hurting her but another part of him remembers that he can’t force trust to grow between them.

“Were you there when the fire happened?” Edric asks. They were all curious, and why shouldn’t they? It had been all over the news, this huge fire that took down most of the ancestral Winterfell and damaged most of the houses surrounding it in the town.

“No.” He lies, trying to forget the smell of smoke and the sound of Arya’s weeping as she looked at the horror that was happening to their home as soon as they arrived. He tries to forget the disappointment and despair they felt when they thought they had arrived to the security of their home only to watch it burn before their eyes . “We were moving around by then.”

“You and your sister?” Stannis asks looking at him straight in the eye. He nods silently as a chill runs down his spine from Stannis scrutiny.  “Her name is Arya, right?”

“Yes sir.” He answers and notices all the things Stannis is looking in him. How tall he is, his hair, his eyes. He doesn’t break eye contact for a single moment, waiting to see if he sees some form of recognition or suspicion on Stannis eyes, but nothing comes.

“Very Northern names indeed.” He points out before finishing the last of his dish. It’s strange but somehow, the idea that someone can still identify him and Arya as Northern makes him slightly happy. They can take everything else from them, but no one can deny it, they’re Northerners through and through.

After that there is a long silence, which ends only as Mya says they should have desert in the living room next to the fireplace. He offers to help clean the table, but Shireen smiles and puts her hand in his arm.

“We do have maids for that,” she smiled that shy smile that she had when she says something that shows she lives a somewhat privileged life. He took her hand in his and kisses it. He knows he teases her a lot about being rich, but he doesn’t want her to feel ashamed about it in front of him. He was rich once too, but thinking about Old Nan or Luwin or Poole only makes him sad, so he just gives Shireen a reassuring smile and takes her hand. She leads him to the living room where a discussion is already happening.

“What do you mean an emergency?” Selyse is asking Gendry, reproach clear in her voice. Everyone is looking at him with expectation as he puts away his phone.

“An emergency, a friend needs me, I’m so sorry.”

“What’s happening?”  Shireen asks while Gendry looks for his jacket.

“Gendry has to leave to help a friend, “ Mya answers. “No matter, we can carry on. His friend needs him aunt, what else can he do?” She smiles at Selyse and then nods at Gendry.

“I’m sorry, I swear I’ll try to be back as soon as possible.” She goes to Shireen and gives her a peck on the forehead and then looks at Rickon with a puzzled look. “I’ll see you soon ok?”

Rickon doesn’t even get to answer before he’s out of the door. There’s a good minute of silence before the maids come with a tray serving dessert. Appropriately enough, the only available space to sit is a loveseat. Shireen sits and he follows, feeling her leg touch hi and effectively distracting him from the rest of the conversation.

He watches as Shireen eats her pie slowly, his eyes tracing the move of her lips. His fingers are itching to caress her behind her neck and see her close her eyes from the pleasure, but sadly all he can do is silently eat. She blushes when she notices him staring, but the way she looks away only makes her more adorable. He tries not to imagine how great it would feel if they were alone and he could hold her close, feel her fingers trace his skin as she gave him her soft tender kisses.

He’s thankful that the conversation flows towards the topics of the Baratheon Company, Stannis latest challenges as a District Judge and Edric talking more about his classes. A part of him is completely distracted by Shireen holding his hand and making patterns with her thumb while another part is slightly worried that someone will ask a question that will force him to share more or invent some story regarding his family life.

As the time passes, they each says their goodbyes. Edric has a study group the next morning so he leaves early. Mya stays for a longer time, and it’s fun to see how much she and Shireen get along. His girlfriend tends to be even more quiet and insecure when she’s with girls, but with her cousin she’s much more fun and a bit of a dork. It makes her incredibly more cute, if that is possible.

But after Mya leaves, both Selyse and Stannis say their goodbyes. Mrs. Baratheon also remind Shireen she has High Valyrian classes early tomorrow which is his cue to leave as well. Thankfully, they leave them to say goodbye in private.

“So, how did I do?” he asks her as she walks him to the gate of the house. The night is chilly, so he wraps his arms around her.

“Very good. I think Mya really liked you.” Shireen says as if that is all the approval that was needed.

“Great.” He stays silent until they reach the gates, but he need to get something out of his chest before he leaves. “Listen,” he starts and he grabs her by the shoulder to make sure she looks him in the eyes. “I really really like you. And I know it bothers you sometimes when I don’t talk much about me or my family. I just-” He runs a hand through his hair and hopes she understands. “It’s not that I don’t trust you it’s just that I’m just not ready to share ok? I’ll get there I promise. I hate making you feel bad for not knowing so much about me but-”

 Her finger on his lips shuts him up immediately. “Rickon, I know. I mean, I hate it sometimes but I understand you’re not one to share and I just really… As long as you promise me you’ll try to be more open I promise I will be patient ok?” He nods, unable to speak. “I will earn your trust, and you will earn mine.”

 Then she kisses him. But this time it’s not shy or sweet. It’s passionate and he wraps his arms around her and holds her tight, so tight that he might leave her without air. But it’s her who is taking all of him, her kisses so feverish and rushed. She’s inexperienced, but even he can understand what she’s trying to say here. He has tried not to push her into anything that she didn’t feel read for, but this kiss… It feels like a promise. That just as he will one day trust her enough to share, one day she will trust him enough to give him all of her too.

He doesn’t know how long they kiss, it could be a second or a decade, all he knows is that the warmth of her fills him so much he hardly feels the cold as he waits in the bus stop. Suddenly, his phone rings and Arya’s name flashes in the screen. For the first time, he feels giddy to share with her something. He need to be honest and tell her that he’s not giving up Shireen for anything, and it’s about time they start having a normal life.

 “Hey Arya.” He picks up excited, but the voice who answers is not his sister.

 “Rickon.” the word is filled with worry and Rickon feels all the warmth leave him.

 “Gendry? What the-”

 “You need to come to the hospital right now,” Gendry says. It feels like a bucket of iced water was thrown in Rickon’s stomach. “Your sister needs you.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know. I'm sorry this took forever. Real Life gave me some problems and well. What can I do.
> 
> To be honest, this chapter was written looong ago. The thing is... can you believe it was twice as long? I cut it in half and even then I felt like the pace is all wrong and it messed me up. But well, what's done is done. I still feel incredibly insecure about it and even more so for the "second part" which will be chapter 4 now because seriously, the pacing of the story was something that had me like super worried but whatever.
> 
> This story is not abandoned, will never be abandoned and worry not I will finish it even if it is the last thing I do. Please review to tell me what you think. This chapter is mostly s et up for the next one which I believe you will enjoy hella lot.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it took so long! This was written but I didn't like how it was paced and I ended up changing most of it and adding a bit of a time gap between this chapter and the next one. And then I had exams which... yeah. Sorry for any typos, I hope you enjoy.

“Jon.” Arya mutters in her sleep. She’s under medication from the pain, but apparently she still dreams. 

Gendry doesn’t know who Jon is, but whomever he is, Arya has been calling him since he got to the hospital. He had received a strange call from her, which included the words ‘help’, ‘Jon’ and some address. He had driven there only to find an ambulance carrying her to the hospital. As he drove to the hospital his first thought was that he ought to call Rickon. 

But he didn’t have his number and the idea of ruining his and Shireen first dinner at the Baratheons was something he dreaded. He knew it was important for Shireen and for what he got from Rickon, this was his first time ever meeting a girl’s parents. Maybe Arya wasn’t so badly hurt and he could wait until he got to the hospital. So he held the wheel tighter and broke about three laws trying to keep up with the ambulance. 

He did not count on the fact that since he was not a family member -he’d tried to lie, but they asked him to fill in a form and he had been forced to admit the truth -  they’d withhold information for him. By the time the nurse had took pity on him and told him, she was already being prepped for a procedure.  They handed him her clothes and purse, telling him they were preparing her room. Only then had he been able to call Rickon. He’d felt like absolute crap talking to him, mostly because he knew the kid had no one but his sister, and was probably scared shitless.

 He was scared too, but being there helped, so he told Rickon to take a cab and he’d pay it for him if he needed. Rickon’s voice had truly sounded like a kid’s then; shaky and small and insecure. Whatever they were doing for Arya didn’t take long, probably half an hour or so, but for him it felt like forever. He must have paced around the waiting room  enough to complete an athlete’s record and his hands had been fidgeting in his pockets the entire time. He couldn’t help coming up with questions, the first being who did this to her and the others along the lines of why did she have a gun on her purse or why was she covered in blood? 

When the nurse tells him he can come in, he practically runs to her room. She looks much better in clean clothes and cleaned of blood. Still, he cringes at the sight of her with a black eye and iv lines connected to her, as well as the scary sight of a ventilator helping her breath. She looks so young. She usually doesn’t, on the contrary on a common day she looks older with her hair in disarray, and the black eyeliner and that cute permanent frown. But all washed up and clean and in white hopital clothing, she looks even younger that her twenty one years. 

He barely gets to touch her fingers with his when Rickon storms in. Gendry turns to look at him, and immediately feels bad for the kid. He looks like he’s been crying, and there’s a look of utter desperation in his eyes. Still, when the boy looks at Arya, he lets out a breath. 

“She’s… She’s ok.” Rickon chokes out, walking past him and holding his sister’s hand in a grip that looks painful. “I mean she’s…. I had this image in my head.” 

“Yeah, sorry about that- They wouldn’t tell me much either and when they found her she looked so bad. But I think it was mostly because she wasn’t all cleaned up.” He rubs his head to do something with his hand, and pretends he doesn’t notice Rickon’s silent tears. “I tried to call you but I didn’t have your number and I didn’t want to call to the house and well-” He doesn’t know how quite to put into words the fact that he knows Arya and Rickon like their privacy. It’s very obvious though, because Rickon gives a frankly poor attempt of a smile and nods. 

“Thanks.” Rickon turns to look at his sister and he can tell he’s evaluating all the machines connected to her. “Did they tell you what happened?” 

“The nurse said that a doctor should be on their way to explain things more properly.” He says. 

“She called me during dinner,” Rickon whispers and Gendry knows because he went through Arya’s phone, “but I left my phone in my jacket and I couldn’t hear it. Maybe I could’ve-” 

“Stop Rickon.” He knows where this is going and he knows that guilt is not something a fifteen year old should feel because of something he did not do. “You had no way of knowing and couldn’t have avoided this.” 

“How do you know? This is all my fault.” Rickon says, but he’s not looking at him so Gendry can’t tell if he’s lying or not. “All my fault.” 

“This is the fault of whomever beat her, not you. She wouldn’t want you to-” Gendry is cut short by the arrival of the doctor. He’s frankly thankful because he doesn’t know Rickon enough to know how to properly console him and both of them are desperate for news on Arya anyways.

 “Good Night, I’m doctor Forrester. Are you Arya’s relatives?” He asks, waiting for their nod. “Well I must say she’s very lucky, whoever found her and called the ambulance had excellent timing, if more time had passed it’d might have been too late to control her bleeding. How are you related to her?” 

“I’m her brother.” Rickon says, and then he looks at Gendry. “And he’s a good friend of ours.” 

“Well, I’m glad to know she’s not alone. It’s not uncommon in this neighbourhood…. Girls suffering beatings who are all alone.” Dr. Forrester says, clearly saddened for what had been obvious to Gendry the minute he stepped into the hospital: this was a poor zone and probably beatings from brawls or attacks on women were something rather common. “Her wounds are mostly superficial. Although I know it must be scary looking at her all bruised, most contusions will heal in a period of one or two weeks. Her two biggest injuries were those on her right wrist and her ribs. I think someone attempted to fracture her wrist, as she has a second degree sprain that only just managed to avoid the complete rupture of her ligaments. In any case, she will have to wear some compression and not use force on that arm for quite some time.” 

“What about her lungs? Why is she connected to that tube?” Rickon asked anxiously. 

“I know it looks scary, but trust me the tube is only so she gets better as soon as possible. She has several cracked ribs, especially between the seventh and tenth ribs on her right side. Although this will be painful, with correct care and pain medication she will recover from it. However the most severe problem was a broken rib that punctured a lung, which is why we have her with mechanical ventilation. While the laceration to the lung was not too deep or the internal bleeding too extreme and was easily fixed in a minimally invasive surgery, her broken rib presentes future risk.” Dr. Forrester said in a serious voice. By the way he looked at Rickon, Gendry knew he was expecting the boys asked what should they do now. But the boy was processing the information yet, so Gendry asked instead.

 “So, how do you fix that? Another surgery?”

 “Yes. A broken rib may cause a flail chest, which can be life threatening.  Although she could live with it, it means she will have to be extremely careful, avoid several activities and have assisted ventilation aparatology in her home. From her x-rays, I think internal fixation from an orthopedics surgeon will help her recover nearly completely, although that estimation should be done by an orthopedic and pulmonary doctor.” 

“Alright,” Rickon says “Let’s do it. I mean, you do it. Your team. Do it.” 

“Unfortunately, according to the records, you’re underage and as such you have no authorization to give the consent to this operation as it is not under basic life support.” Rickon opened his mouth to protest but Dr. Forrester raised his hand so he’d let him continue. “Your sister is our of risk here, right now. The drugs will keep her breathing even and the pulmonary assistance will help healing her lungs, so by tomorrow she will probably be ok to agree to surgery.” He said and waited for Rickon to nod in understanding. “In any case, this surgery requires her lung to be stronger so it can handle the movement on the area, so it’d have to wait at least two days, again, a more exact estimation should be done by an specialist.” 

“Ok. She’ll be here all night?” Rickon asked. 

“Yes, again I know her being in ICU seems scary, but it’s necessary from this type of trauma patients and immediately after any procedure. Tomorrow when visiting hours start, I think you will find her in typical hospital room. Any questions?”  Both him and Rickon nodded, and he managed to mumble out a ‘thank you’ before the doctor smiled at them hopefully. “I trust she will make a full recovery, she seems a strong girl. Now I must hurry, anything else you may ask the nurse and she will call an intern if you’ve got any further questions.” 

“Thank you.” Rickon said, finally managing more control of his voice. Gendry could tell he was relieved that in the greater picture, Arya was well. 

“No problem,” the doctor said as he stepped out, but before he left he turned to make a comment. “I almost forgot. Before she went under anesthesia she kept calling for someone named Jon. I assumed it was a father or brother but you’re the only one in her record. I’d suggest calling him, she seemed quite desperate to see him. Support from dear ones always helps recovery.” 

Rickon was white as a sheet, and Gendry could tell he was speechless, so once again he took over and thanked the doctor again. There was a long silence during which both processed the information. Gendry wondered how’d Arya take the news. Besides worrying about her job and money, he’s sure she will be irritated by the prospect of being restrained to a bed. To him, Arya was a get-up-and-do kind of girl, similar to him. She won’t be keen on the idea of being unable to do whatever she set her mind on doing. Finally, he pondered on what the doctor said. ‘She was lucky’, he had said. While at the waiting room he’d been anxious to know if she’d be ok or not, he’d now come to realise she’d been very close to not be. 

He’d nearly lost her, and it scared him not only for her, but because he realised how deeply she affected him. It was scary to know that in such a short notice, he’d come to cherish her so much. He made no secret of wanting to spend more time with her, but it surprised him how much he looked forward to it and how, despite what he told himself and her, he’d hope that they could be a couple. A normal happy couple. But it seemed Arya was far from having a normal happy life. 

"Jon..." Arya muttered in her sleep. She mumbled something afterwards, but the ventilator made it impossible to understand it clearly. 

Rickon ran his hand through his wild curls, and Gendry felt incredibly out of place. "Hey you uh... You need me to call someone?" He offered. 

 "There's no one to call!" Rickon turned to him giving Gendry a clear order with his eyes: Don't tell anyone. "No one." His voice breaks at the last word and once again Gendry feels so sorry for the kid. 

He knows what it's like to be alone in this world. And now that he has learned what a family is like. If he lost any of his siblings... He has never been a violent guy, but he cannot fathom how bitter and angry he'd be if he failed to protect Shireen or Mya. He hardly remembers his mother but he remembers what loss feels like. He knows how gut wrenching it is to feel alone in the world. 

"Fuck." Rickon says as he stands up, walking to the window. "I can't stand to be here anymore." 

"If you want to get some air..." he begins to offer but the boy interrupts him. 

"Can't leave her like this. What if she wakes up?" 

"I'll stay, call you if something happens."  But Rickon only shakes his head at his offer. 

"No, no. She wouldn't leave me." He says stubbornly. Well Gendry can be stubborn too. 

"Listen buddy, you're no use to her if you're so anxious and moody." He raises his voice to get his point across and it seems to work, Rickon finally looking at him more patiently. "Go home, take a shower, drink some coffee and bring her some clean clothes." 

Rickon looks at him for a minute, as if he was cheking if he was trustworthy. He'd been offended - doesn't Gendy trust him and his teenage hormones around Shireen? - but lets it pass considering the circumstances. He holds his gaze with determination and for the first time Gendry feels like he knows him from somewhere. Something in the boy's complexion - the blue eyes, the auburn curls, the height - is eerie familiar. 

"You'll call me if anything happens?" Rickon voice is nearly threatening but once again he takes a deep breath and lets it pass. 

"Of course." Rickon doesn't hesitate much. He walks up to Arya and kisses her forehead,  promises to come back soon and heads to the door. "Hey Rickon," Gendry calls out as a thought comes to him. Rickon looks at him expectantly from the door. "She wouldn't want you to do something stupid.” 

Rickon doesn’t say anything before he leaves. 

*/* 

Contusions. Broken wrist. Broken rib. Punctured lung. 

He hardly notices the cold as he walks from the hospital to the apartment. He hardly notices anything at all. He ignores the whores calling him from the street corners, he ignores the homeless drunk who always preaches the zombies will come in the cold nights, he ignores the fact that his feet are taking him nowhere near the apartment. 

Rickon is not very intelligent in the way Shireen is. He’s smart for numbers and biology, but he cannot recite poems or remember chemistry formulas. But, for all the things he lacks, he’s good at many other things. He knows how much force it’s needed to use a lock pick with precision. He’s good at remembering car’s licence plates and has a map in his head of nearly all of White Harbor’s streets. 

He’s not stupid, he’s smart. And it’s because he’s smart that he knows he needs to do something besides holding Arya’s hand. He knows that in this streets showing weakness means people will think they can walk all over you and there would be no consequences. But Sigorn is wrong if he thinks he can beat up his sister and nothing will happen. He’s Rickon Stark, born and raised in Winterfell and he will teach the Thenns that when you dare cross a Stark, wolves will come for you. 

Broken wrist. 

The fighting pit was full. Despite the fact that it was filled with goons carrying firearms, people were carelessly cheering, betting and drinking. Whores seated on men laps hoping to earn some coin. Dealers walked around aimlessly, pretending they were not expecting some usual customer would approach them for something to inject. 

If they saw him, they didn’t stop him. Not that he cared for the stupid goons of Sigorn. Rickon felt like he could beat them all to death without even blinking. There was something inside him, growling and  clawing at his guts, a fierce violent desire to kill all those who dared lay a finger on his sister. He’d never ever considered himself violent enough to be able to commit a murder. But now, he realised, perhaps for the first time in his life that he truly was a Stark through and through. He was Arya’s little brother. In the name of her survival, he’d lie, steal and kill. 

“Tell your boss Rickon Snow is here.” 

Broken rib.

 “Aw. The pup is here, just look at this boy,” the guard at the door laughs, sharing a look with his partner. “How’s your sister by the way? I heard she was blue all over by the time they were done with her.” 

He doesn’t think, not even half a second passes before his knee connects with the man’s crotch and he wraps his pale hands around the man’s neck. When he speaks, he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice. “Don’t you ever dare to speak about my sister again you hear me?!” 

Rickon’s hands easily close tighter and tighter around the man’s throat. There’s a rush of blood to his head as he hears the man’s lungs fighting for air. His hand close around Rickon’s wrists, but he’s too weak for a proper grip. Is not until Rickon hears the other men racking their guns. 

“Let him go unless you want two bastard Snows at the hospital boy.” Sigorn says from behind him. Rickon lets go of the goon’s neck and as he slides down coughing he can’t help himself as his lips smile. When he turns around to look at Sigorn, he can’t help but think that right here in this moment, he could kill them all. If only so none of them would ever dare touch his sister. “So… you must be suicidal, coming here after what she did.” 

Punctured lung. 

“I’m going to kill you.” He swears. On his mother's corpse he swears, he will kill the man who put Arya in the hospital. 

“Now now… that won’t be necessary.” Sigorn says with a smile, holding up his hands. But he doesn’t care. Rickon knows very few things in his life, and one of them is that he must protect his sister. He’s a Stark and he will have his justice. 

“I will-” 

“Kill me, yes.” Sigorn says, he’s smiling but his eyes, his grey eyes so much like his father’s, are trying to calm him. “But instead, I have a proposition for you.” He simply says and walks inside a room, signaling for him to follow. 

“Fuck you.” Rickon spits with hate, but follows anyway when he notices Sigorn’s signal does not include his minions. Fuck his proposition. Fuck all this bullshit. Rickon has felt anger before. He has felt fury before but he has never felt quite like this. She feels so fed up with just about every shitty aspect of his life. 

“I know how you feel,” Sigorn says after closing the door, his voice much calmer than Rickon expected. If he feels offended by the snort Rickon let out, he doesn’t show it. “I mean it. I used to be a poor kid too.” 

“So what? There’s lots of poor kids. Big news. I’m still-” 

“Killing me, yes. But first listen,” Sigorn says, and steps closer to him. Closer to his reach. Rickon doesn’t waste time and punches him on the right side of his jaw. His knuckles hurt afterwards but there’s a sweet satisfaction as Sigorn sways back and leaves out a tiny cry of pain. “Fuck! Stop!”

 “I’ll-” Rickon starts to threaten him, but is cut short by Sigron suddenly standing up and grabbing him by his jacket, shoving him up against the wall and then pulling out a knife against his throat. 

“Listen kid,” He starts, his voice laced with violence, “you have no idea of what power I have now. I got rid of the body, your sister will not go to jail. I got this far, and so can you. I can teach you.” 

“What?” Rickon cannot believe what he’s hearing. How is it possible that this man would so easily forgive his recent threat to his life? As if sensing that Rickon was too confused to do anything, Sigorn lets him go. 

“My father was a practical man. Perhaps too much. My wife is an important person, but she was stripped of everything. Much like my family was, when we were forced to migrate here. And when we married, we expected my father would loyally help us get back what once belonged to her. But he didn’t, he simply sided with the more powerful, rich side.” There was a bitterness in Sigorn’s voice that Rickon had sometimes heard in Arya’s voice, though he could not identify when exactly he had heard her with so much venom in her words. “My wife never forgave me for not standing up to my father, and I’ never forgave him for simply forgetting Alys was now my wife and that we were to build a family.” He looked at Rickon’s eyes with less anger now, and perhaps more understanding. “I know how frustrating being poor can be boy, trust me. And I sure fucking know what is it to fucking need to give the people you love the things they deserve.” 

And that was the part he understood. Because if there was one thing Rickon wanted to give Arya was what she fucking deserved. She deserved to stop working her ass off and go back to school. To go out on a date and enjoy. To take a dance class and all the things she used to do before. She deserved to have some fucking happiness in his life instead of all the worries she had now. 

“I-” Rickon couldn’t really say any of that, so he just shut his mouth and looked at Sigorn. “What do you propose.” 

“I need a trustful person to do some work for me. Right now all those guys out there follow me because they were loyal to my father. We pay well of course, but true loyalty is always worth more than a well paid... associate.” Sigorn explains as he pulls something out of a cabinet; A bottle of something and two glasses. “I want someone loyal to me.” He pours the drink, and hands one to Rickon. 

“What’s the catch?” Rickon asks. He smells the glass and though he know it was alcohol, he has no clue as to what kind it is. Not that it matters, he isn’t going to complaint to Sigorn. He is not a boy anymore. 

“No catch. Just one request. One I ask of anyone who works for me.” Sigorn says as he cames to stand in front of him, glass in hand. He answers Rickon’s wordless question. “Complete honesty.” 

“Come again?” 

“Honesty. When someone works for me, I need to know everything about them. To they have families? Criminal records? An addiction I should know about? Any information one deems necessary to work in a…. group like ours.” Sigorn smiles and this time it reaches his grey eyes. “ Like a history of working for someone else or… a secret identity even.” 

Rickon looks at him in the eye, without blinking, like Arya once told him. She had said the secret of lying well is all on the eyes. Train your eyes to lie well and you will have no worries. “I’m just an orphan. A poor Northern orphan with no past and possibly no future.” 

“We’ll see about that boy, ” Sigorn says as he  raises his glass and took a drink. “I can promise you won’t ever feel helpless again. I see great things in your future.” 

The drink burns Rickon’s throat as he remembers Arya lying in the hospital bed all beaten up, but he was a man now, so he shows no pain. 

*/* 

When Arya wakes up she knows she’s in a hospital bed. But somehow her own body forgets that she’s in public hospital in White Harbor and instead she’s in the clinic in Winterfell, back when they got her appendix out. She feels thirsty and her throat hurts like a bitch when she rasps out a weak whisper. “Jon.. water.” And when she feels a chair moving she tries to open her eyes. 

There’s only one light in the room but it feels too much for her tired eyes, she tries to lift her right hand to shield from it but it feels like her arms weights a ton and she’s even less lucky with her right arm since moving it seems basically impossible. 

“Arya, wait, don’t move.” Says a voice that is definitely not Jon’s but that sounds like Robb’s. “Let me.” And suddenly Robb is there, holding a glass of water with a straw close to her and it takes a great effort to just reach and take some water. Still, the effect of the water on her dry throat is so delicious she’d continue drinking even if the effort drove her unconscious. 

“Robb-” she says and suddenly Robb looks sad, so sad. And seeing sad Robb makes her think of Jon and suddenly the flash image his dead eyes hits her. she doesn’t know why she remembers this but it’s a clear image in her head, Jon’s grey eyes lifeless and empty. “Jon?” her voice breaks and she has no energy for tears so she just closes her eyes and ignores the sob that threatens to come out of her. 

Next time she wakes up, Arya knows very well she’s in a hospital in White Harbor, even before she opens her eyes she remembers Sigorn’s men beating her in that alley and the paramedics asking her for her name. She can tell her right wrist is in some kind of bandage and she can feel a mask on her. She opens her eyes and sees Rickon sleeping in a chair by the corner. He looks tired, but not overly preoccupied and so much like Robb she nearly cries all over again. But she won’t cry. Not again. Not when Rickon is safe and sound in the corner of the room. 

She soothes herself to sleep by seeing Rickon’s chest rise and fall. 

When she wakes up next, Rickon is on the phone. “... Yeah If Gendry comes in the afternoon we can go out to have some co- oh! Arya woke up, call you later.” He hangs up comes to her with a smile. “Hi.” His voice is soft and low as he goes to sit next to her. 

“Hi.” She whispers. The mask is off, but her voice is throaty and she can feel her breaths getting shaky. “I-” 

“The nurse said the doctor will come in some minutes for the checkup, it’s good you woke up now.” Rickon says happily, and holds her hand. She feels herself squeezing his hand with a deathly grip despite herself. 

They sit in silence for a few minutes and she can’t help but wonder what is going through Rickon’s head. She will eventually have to tell him why she was beaten up and ended in the hospital. She braces herself for one of those moments in which she goes full parent on him: shut up, listen to me and do as I say. She knows sometimes she fails, and treats him like a brother, complaining to him about her job and sharing cigarettes or fighting like siblings do. She should be more motherly, put her foot down when she makes rules and not complaint to him about things like bills or rent. But she can’t help it. 

Rickon is everything to her, her little brother, her roommate, her best friend and in many way, a son too. And sometimes she has problems finding the difference between those. But right here and now, she knows she’s gotta be like a mother. He will drill her with questions, he will doubt she did the right thing and fight her on it. He will want to act like a big boy and take care of her. But she won’t let him. She will put her foot down. 

“Good Morning.” A doctor shock her out of her thoughts  and made her let go of Rickon’s hand. “I’m doctor Forrester, and I was the physician in your care when you entered the ER.” 

It wasn’t good. At all. In the movies, when someone took a beat down they got up and continued their life with some bruising. She knew she wasn’t as bad as it could have been. She could have had bruises in her head or even broken bones. It seemed like a blessing to only come out of it with a lung injury that could be ‘easily fixed’ with a surgery. 

She didn’t freak out at first. Maybe it was the painkillers or the kind voice of the doctor, but at first she felt no anxiousness. But when he left and Rickon went outside to call Shireen back, she felt the dreaded feeling of worry and desperation come back. How was she going to pay such a hospital bill? And the surgery? And the days she’d miss from work, would she find her waitress job back when she came back from her leave? 

How was she going to make it until the end of the month? 

“Hey,” Gendry shows up out of nowhere and she can’t even help it when she feels a tiny bit better and smiling at him. “Rickon is outside with Shireen, I wanted to come and say hi.” 

“Hi.” Gendry smiles at her and she wishes she could caress his face. She remembers his trimmed beard tickling her as he kissed his way down her body and suddenly she feels like the room is too warm. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks and she doesn’t know how to answer. She’s physically well but otherwise feels extremely worried. 

“Painkillers are good.” she replies. Gendry just smiles at that. 

“Enjoying oxycodone now?” He half jokes, half analyzes her to see if she has become an addict in the last 24 hours. 

“Can’t take any opiates with the breathing problems stuff.” She says. 

“Are you gonna have the surgery?” He asks as he takes the seat Rickon left empty. 

“A specialist needs to come check my exams and decide if I need surgery, but my doctor says I will probably need it if I want to avoid problems and preoccupations in the future.” She says, and she has half a mind to explain she’s not keen on the idea of having a surgery added to her hospital bill. 

“Then you should have it.” He looks at her seriously as if he knew she was thinking of not having the procedure. She avoids looking at him and she wonders why is it so difficult to hide things from people once you start caring about them while at the same time so difficult to be honest. “Arya, you must.” 

“It will be expensive”, she admits, and then whispers so that Rickon won’t hear. “I am a waitress, you really think I have paid sick leave? Or that I will come back from my leave with that job still open waiting for me?” 

“Don’t you have any savings?” Gendry asks with what she supposes is sympathy but honestly she just feel like he’s judging her for not having them. Even if she does have them, she just saves it for an emergency. A real emergency like escaping with Rickon to a new city with new names. 

“No.” Gendry looks at her doubtfully. “What?” 

“You’re a very worried and responsible person. And you have no savings?” He asks and she once again avoids looking into his eyes. She can practically feel his gaze calling bullshit on her words. How to explain to him that to her emergencies were someone discovering her true identity and having to run quickly with rickon to start somewhere else? 

“I just… I’ve been trying to save money. This would mean just wasting a big part of it.” She half lies, half admits. 

“I get it. I really do.” Gendry says, and then takes a big breath before speaking. “But if you don’t heal properly you won’t be able to work much either anyways. And that’s less money too, you know.” 

“Making me feel so much better already,” she mumbles. 

“Would you rather I lie to you?” He asks with a cheeky smile, and once again she felt her lips smile without her control. “You know, Davos is good with numbers. If you want he can help you with your finances to-” 

“No!” she yells. Gendry looks taken aback by the force in her voice and gives her an inquiring look. “I’m fine. I just need to… calmly analyze the situation.” 

Before Gendry could say anything, the door opened and Rickon’s head poked in. “Everything alright? I heard you yelling.” 

“Everything’s fine I’m just a mess.” She admits, and attempts to give them both a reassuring smile that she’s sure fails to calm any of them. 

“Well, that’s good ‘cause I- I uh-” Ricon blushes and steps in holding the hand of A pretty girl with long black hair and eyes as blue as Gendry’s. She knows the girl, but is waiting for Rickon to introduce them. “This is my girlfriend, Shireen. Shireen, this is my sister, Arya.” 

“Hi. Pleased to meet you.” Shireen comes closer and offers her hand, and Arya is silent. A part of her is happy for her brother. Her stupid teenage brother who is expectedly waiting for her to smile and looks at his girl like she hangs the moon. Another part of her feels the need to run away before they get too close, enough to risk everything they’ve worked so hard for. 

A part of her, like always, is distrustful and worried and can’t help the cold tone of her voice when she shakes Shireen’s hand. “Please to meet you. Took Rickon long enough.”

 “I know, I kept asking for him to introduce us, but he always put some excuse.” The girl has a sweet voice, and she can see a lot of Sansa in her. It makes her even sadder, and she tries to hide it from them, tries to put an unfeeling expression on her face so they don’t notice how much it hurts to see her sister kindness in Rickon’s girl. “But I was so worried when he called me this morning, I insisted on coming here.” 

“Is good, thank you for stopping by.” She mumbles. “ I’m sure this is not the kind of neighbourhood you are used to.” At her comment, everyone’s faces are taken by an awkward expression. 

“Well, I was worried, and I don’t let neighbourhoods get in the way when I want to check on someone’s well being.” Shireen states with determination and the tinies of smile once again appeared on Arya’s face unbidden. What was it with Baratheon’s making her smile so much? 

“Yes, that’s great but now we need to get you to Valyrian lesson.” Gendry adds and looks at Arya apologetic, “I’m her ride.” 

“I’ll walk you to the elevator.” Rickon says and gives Arya a nod to let her know he’s right back. 

“I’ll see you around Arya.” Shireen waves at her and Arya throws her one last smile before leaving. 

“Well..” Gendry says as he walks towards her, but before he can say anything, she extends her hand to silently bid him closer. 

“Come here Gendry, I need to ask you something.” her voice quivers, and Arya tries to control her emotions better. “We’re friends now right?” 

“Of course.” Gendry says immediately, smiling at her. 

“I need you to look out for Rickon. Ask Shireen to help you...” She nearly begs and grabs his hand. It’s warm and calloused and so comforting she nearly closes her eyes. “He knows where I keep the money and he can take care of himself but I’m so worried he does something stupid. That he stays up until late at night or misses school-” 

“Why won’t tell him to stay with me?” Gendry blurts out. The kindness in his voice was real, but still Arya feels unsure. Trusting her little brother to a stranger? Everything inside of her tells her that Gendry is a good guy and it scares her how easily her heart seems to calm when he's smiles. 

“No, I can’t ask you that… I couldn’t possibly-” she stammers out before she feels him squeeze her hand and shuts her up. 

“Arya, we’re friends now remember? That’s what friends do for each other. Just for as long as you’re in the hospital. That way I can keep a good eye on him.” Gendry is looking at her, and she can feel something in her heart telling her that he is her friend, she can trust him. 

“Thank you, so much.. I-” she mumbles some incoherences because she can’t quite keep a hold of herself. To know someone will take care of Rickon while she’s here is so incredibly comforting. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll be here to help you.” He says as he leans closer. His eyes are so beautiful really, honest and true and so blue. She could swim in them. Her breath hitches when he gets closer and closer, and her eyes close as she feels his lips give her cheek a soft kiss. “Take care.” He says and leaves so suddenly she can’t say goodbye as she feels her cheeks reddening. 

She plays around with her blankets and waits for Rickon. She hopes to talk to him before they move her to a normal recovery room where she knows she will share with other patients. She braces herself for what will be an ugly talk. She hates talking to him about monetary problems. She’s the big sister and the one who is supposed to have that covered. And she does, for the most part, but not lately. Life gets more expensive every day and it always seems like the North is going from bad to worse. The next months will be extra difficult and she absolutely hates that they will have to take money out from her emergency money. 

“Hey,” Rickon comes in, smile on his face and she lets herself enjoy how cute he looks. He’s getting taller and taller every day, and she makes a mental note to tell him to start working out unless he wants to look like an spaguetti with a nice face. Shireen is older than him and she will want her boyfriend looking like a man and not some malnourished teenager. 

“Hey you.” She smiles. He makes a move to sit in the chair by the window, but she stops him with a sign and pats the bed to come closer. “Come here, little brother.” 

Rickon drags the chair to sit close to her, and silently takes her hand. They stay in silence like that for some time, until she hears his voice more vulnerable than ever. “I was scared I was going to lose you too.” Rickon mutters, his blue eyes piercing her, reminding her of her mother, her sister, her brother Bran. _I’m all he has left_ , she thinks. 

“I will never leave you. I promise.” She says although they both know is impossible to promise such a thing. The Gods don’t care about your promises when they decide a tragedy is in your destiny. “We’re in this together.” 

Rickon only nods at that, his eyes watery and as blue as the deepest ocean. He clears his throat and lets go of her hand. “Do you need anything?” 

“No, but we need to talk.” She says. “First, about this-” 

“I know. I know what you did.” There’s a fierceness in his eyes and she’s so scared that he will reject her now, because she killed a man, because now she’s no better than the butchers who killed her family. “I understand. But please don’t ever go to talk to the Thenns again.” He asks and leaves her stunned in silence for a moment. So he doesn’t know she killed Styr? 

“Yes, but.. only if you promise never to do the same.” She says firmly. He averts his gaze and she makes a point of putting more force in her voice “I mean it Rickon, no more business with that people.” 

“Arya-” 

“Don’t.” She shut him up, unwilling to hear any excuse. “I don’t want you around those people.” 

“But what are we gonna do without the money they gave me?” Rickon says. “You know what would’ve happened if I haven’t worked for them? We’d have no water heater and come winter we’d be showering in freezing water. I’d have no new shoes and I’d get my feet wet when it rains.” 

“Rickon, I’ll… I’ll take care of it ok?” She whispers to calm him down, trying not to cry as she realizes she failed and he still has to worry about that shit when all he should worry about is studying. “I know the last couple months have been hard, but it’s only because the tips have not been good at the restaurant and I was paying the debt of your hospital bill, but now…”

“Don’t tell me shit is gonna get better.” Rickon sneers, resentment clear in his voice. “Stop lying to me about-” 

“Oh seriously? That’s rich coming from you!” She finally explodes. “You realize that you lied to me about the Thenns in the first place right? Even after all the times I told you just to go to school and forget about anything else?” Rickon has the decency to look a bit guilty, so she carries on. “and while we’re on the subject of doing dangerous things behind my back, exactly when did you plan on telling me that you were meeting Stannis Baratheon? Cause the only reason I found out is because Gendry told me!” 

“You knew that already!” He said, but she could tell even he didn’t buy it. “you knew we were going out, what did you expect?” 

“First, there’s a difference between casual going out and becoming a meeting-the-parents kind of boyfriend. Second, I told you it was something we needed to discuss after we dealt with the Thenns because Stannis knew dad and you just fucking ignored it.” She explains angrily.  

“Arya.” Rickon says finally, and his voice is much much too tired for a fifteen year old. “I just want to have a nice normal thing ok?” He asks, looking more like a kid than he has in a long time. “I thank you for keeping me safe, and I promise I will be more careful. But what is the point if we live our lives like fugitives for the rest of our lives?” 

“Rickon… if the Lannisters see you in the social pages in a photograph taken at a party with the Baratheons or something-” She tries to explain but he’s having none of it. 

“They will come after us, I know. but at least I had a good fucking time with my girlfriend, and if I die I know I did so because I lived without fear.” He says bravely, but Arya is not feeling that way. She’s scared and she can’t help it when she nearly screams her words. 

“But what about me? What will it be of me?! Doesn’t it occur to you that maybe they only get to you and I survive? What would it be of me without you?” She feels the hot tears streaming down her face as Rickon tries to grab her hand. “If you put yourself in danger Rickon… All I’ve ever done…. it will be for nothing. And that’s all that I’ll be left with if they kill you. Nothing!” 

“Arya, calm down please, you might hurt yourself-” Rickon tries to soothe but she can’t stop. She literally can’t stop worrying no matter how hysterical she’s getting. 

“You don’t know Stannis Baratheon, what if he has plans?  What if he realises who you are and decides to use you as a pawn in his manipulations? What if the wrong person sees you, there can be Lannister spies everywhere, what if they tell that monstrous woman and her psychotic son that they found someone that looks exactly like a younger Robb Stark?” she says and Rickon is making that face people do where they try to deny all your worries like meaningless. “Don’t act like it’s an impossibility Rickon. Have you no idea of the shit I’ve had to do to keep us alive?!” 

And that’s it. She loses her energy after that and Rickon just stays silent. She feels her heart hammering in her chest and she prays no nurse comes to check on her. She doubts it. It’s a public hospital. Rickon is just sitting there looking at some point in the wall. It takes awhile for him to speak, but when he does, she’s shocked to hear what he has to say. 

“I know. I know all that you’ve done. But I also know that that doesn’t mean you’re right.” He says firmly, and she can tell he wants her to remain silent as he explains. “Arya I thank you every day for what you’ve done. I know you know I’m awake at the night when you come back from your night jobs.” She look away because she never wants to speak about the job she has done for Jaqen. “I could tell you that you’re doing the same to me, putting yourself in danger by working with someone who pays you enough to pay our rent in some job that you do in one night. I don’t…” Rickon lets out a laugh and she thinks he’s going crazy. “I don’t wanna know. Or maybe I do, I don’t know.” 

“Rickon..” 

“Wait. Whatever it is, I know it’s dangerous enough that you feel the need to go armed. So stop pretending like I’m not the only one here who is doing dangerous things in order to survive. And that’s the thing Arya.” Rickon takes both her hands this time. “After all this shit, don’t you think it’s time that we start living? Fuck surviving. Fuck our boring harsh life having no good thing except safety because let’s face it we’ll never have that. If we’re going this far to have a decent life then let’s fucking enjoy it.” 

“I.. don’t…” She can’t say anything really. a part of her feels like this is true. A part of her feels the same way he does, a deep desire to just live and leave behind all worries and take a chance in order to fucking enjoy the life she so dearly had to work for. 

“Stop wasting money in rent and saving the money under the mattress in order to flee quickly and having no bank account to keep anonymous while we can’t buy shit with no credit card. Stop shutting ourselves away from people.” 

“Rickon…” She wants it so much, the idea of living he has. But she’s the oldest and she’s supposed to protect him. What if this is all a bad idea? If it goes wrong, whose fault would it be but hers? 

“Mom and dad wouldn’t want us living like this Arya.” Rickon says in the lowest of voices, his grip in her hands tender but anxious. “We’re Starks of Winterfell, we don’t survive like mice, we live like wolves.” 

And it is those last words that cement her decision. She has had enough. Enough with the low pay jobs and the moneylenders and the poverty. Just fuck all that. She’s done with living like crap only because she fears some lions from the south. 

“Ok.” she says. Her voice is much more timid than she intended, so she orders herself to give more strength to her statement. “We’ll do it.” 

Rickon smile is the most precious thing she has ever seen. “Really?” 

“Yes, really.” She says. “First things first. You’re gonna go asks if there is any discount if we pay in cash. If not, whatever. Ask the nurse to send me that specialist immediately. I want this surgery done as soon as possible. You’re gonna go to the house and take our save money from under the mattress and pay the hospital bill and also pack some of your stuff.” 

“Why?” Rickon asks.” 

“You’re gonna go with Gendry while I’m here. Don’t discuss it. I don’t trust you enough and he can keep an eye on you.” She says as Rickon glares at her harshly but she ignores him. She’s the oldest anyway. “And I will go to. I know he won’t have a problem.” She hopes, truly, but if not, she can crash at Jeyne ad Willow’s too. “Once I’m out of here I will open a bank account to save the money we have left after paying everything. And then we’ll start looking for an apartment I can buy. And it will be our home. And once we’re settled there you will invite your girlfriend to have dinner with us.” 

Rickon’s smile is something she hasn’t seen in him since before the wedding, and he makes a move to hug her, but she stops him. “But… I want you to promise not to get in business with the Thenns again.” 

“Arya, I am…” He starts but then sends her a reproachful look. “So are you gonna leave your second job too? Gonna stop your mysterious night job?” 

“No. Because first of all is not only a night job and second of all… is not nearly as dangerous as you’d believe.” Rickon sends her a sceptical look before she can continue. “I mean it! Trust me. They give me assignments to do things that are not exactly legal but I’m not going around participating in shootouts… which is how you’ll end up if you work for a gang!”

 “I’m just worried about what you do with this people.” He says and she can’t help but looking at him like he’s stupid. 

“That’s basically what I’m telling you, I’m worried about what you do with this people. People willing to kill you for not following orders.” She says slowly ‘cause the Gods know he can be hard headed sometimes. 

“You’re gonna tell me your employees are very forgiving when you misbehave?” He asks and she stays quiet because she knows that for Jaqen, failure or spilling the secrets on the job they do are very serious matters that must be treated with severe punishment. She has seen the punishment for a snitch - she has enforced it too - and dreads what they may do to someone who fails. But she doesn’t fail. Ever. 

“Rickon. I’m older and most importantly, your legal guardian. God forbid you ever get arrested, they’ll take you away from me. And I think we already covered the part where I don’t want you doing shit that risks your life.” Arya reminded him. “Now promise me.” 

“Arya, I…” He began. 

“Promise me Rickon. Promise me.” She pleaded. 

“I promise Arya.” He said while grabbing her hand. “Anything for you, sister.” 

*/*

 Shireen hardly saw Rickon the week following Arya’s hospitalization. She missed him dearly, but understood that he needed to be with his sister. She only saw him the few times Gendry offered her to drive her to his apartment, where Rickon was staying until Arya was released. 

She did however, use her time to advance some of the things she had left aside while she was in her relationship honeymoon phase. She was in her junior year and very soon would have to start preparing for university admission tests and developing her own cv for applications. The Baratheons have gone to Storm’s End University for countless generations, and she was determined to make her father proud. 

She has Valyrian classes, which was an important requirement in Business School, as well as having extra classes in algebra and economics. She had been slacking in those last since she began seeing Rickon, but she used her week to catch up in some things. Which her father approved with a nod and a half smile and her mother cheered by asking the maid to prepare chocolate cake for her. 

By the end of the week however, she was really needing some relaxation, so she went out with Mya to buy some clothes. She was never the kind to wear makeup or jewelry or worry much for her clothing, but ever since she began seeing Rickon she has become more interested in getting dolled up. It was a joy to her mother, who basically thanked the Lord when she asked for her credit card. 

“So, Rickon is just staying with Gendry?” Mya asks slowly. 

“Yeah. And once she gets out, Arya will go there too.” Shireen explains as she examines different skirts. 

“Mmh…” Mya said, and only shrugs her shoulders when Shireen sends her an inquiring look. “What? You gotta admit it sounds suspicious.” 

“Suspicious like…” 

“Like maybe Gendry is extremely closed off and suspicious of other people yet he just opens his home to these two?” Mya explains slowly. 

“Aren’t you glad that Gendry is finally opening up?” Shireen asks because, well. It's been years since the three siblings came to live with them following her uncle Robert’s death. Mya’s personality made her get used to it fairly quickly, while Edric was more timid but eventually opened up to Shireen due to their age and her mother because she was his aunt. But not Gendry. He was polite, responsible and caring, yet he was ever silent, always trying to do his thing on his own. 

“I mean, of course. and I know he’s a nice guy who would help someone who really needs it but… this type of thing is just.. so unlike him!” Mya exclaims as she follows her to try on the clothes they picked. 

“You’re making him sound like an antisocial jerk.” Shireen says to which her cousin just snorts. 

“Shireen, you think too kindly of everyone.” Mya says as she models some cargo pants that somehow make her look even sexier. “I adore Gendry but he is an antisocial jerk. He’s nice and everything, but he’s quiet and closed off as fuck. I think he’s into this girl.There’s no way he’d let her stay just ‘cause he’s trying to be kind to your boyfriend.” 

“He’s just being nice.” 

“I’m telling you, she’s into this girl. Is the only reason I can find.” Mya insists. 

Shireen leaves the mall with a new skirt to show off to Rickon the next day when they go to the movies, and with the nagging feeling that maybe Gendry and Arya were becoming a thing. She spends the rest of the afternoon studying some Valyrian and writing her essay about the  Ghiscari culture. As soon as she finishes in the library, she runs to her room and calls Rickon as soon as she closes her door. He picks up almost instantly, and her heart swells because he always sounds so happy to hear her. 

“Hey ‘Reen. How are you?” 

“Hey. Good. My eyes are tired from so much writing though.” She throws herself in her bed and closes her eyes. “Talk to me about something, what have you been up to?” 

“Helping Arya settle in the apartment.” Rickon says, sounding as tired as her too. Arya had a laparoscopic surgery the day before, and Rickon had spent the rest making her company. “She’s complaining about the clothes I brought to her from-” he stops and Shireen hears something that sounds like ‘I’m not complaining’ before she hears Rickon’s voice again. “Yes you are, now get into bed before I call Gendry so we can force you into bed.” 

“Now, that sounds interestings…” She quips in and Rickon lets out a snort. 

“I’m all in for experimenting but incest is one step too far for me.” He says. 

“So how are you doing with the move?” She puts her phone on speaker as she gets up to get ready for bed. 

“Uh… there’s not much I can do without Arya, she’s the one who has to take care of all things official. I’m just collecting boxes here and there and starting to order some shit.” Rickon lets out a yawn. 

“Long day?” 

“The worst. Arya forced  me to do all the homework you brought me, thank you so much by the way-” He starts complaining. 

“Hey! I worry about your education! Besides Gendry told me Arya told him to tell me to watch over you.” She explains quickly, leaving no room for his boyish complaints. “And I told you not to let it accumulate.” 

“Yes, yes anyways… It wasn’t the homework per se, is just that Arya is driving me crazy.” Rickon’s voice gets lower. “I think being bedridden and sick is driving her crazy. I’m gonna ask her doctor to give her stronger painkillers.” 

“Rickon!” She says as she turns the lights off, going to the bathroom to wash her teeth. 

“She’s smothering me. She wants to see me do homework in front of her, demands a report of all my daily activities… I think she feels helpless and she’s gonna have some sort of nervous breakdown.” He says half jokingly, half seriously. 

“How long until she can work again?” Shireen asks through a mouthful toothpaste. If she knows anything about Arya, from what Rickon has told her, is that feeling helpless and limited seems to clash with her personality. 

“She’s clear for work since tomorrow, but she’s not allowed strong effort until at least a two weeks. And you know… carrying traits filled with mountains of porcelain dishes is actually hard labor in her condition.” He explains and Shireen laments Arya’s situation as she gets into bed. “Listen babe, I’m getting ready for bed and I don’t want you to hear me pissing.” 

“Rickon!” she shrieks but it actually makes her laugh. He’s crude and a bit wild, but it never fails to make her laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah sure, of course. I’m dying to see you.” He adds the last part slowly and tenderly and even when Shireen’s bed is warm, she feels shivers down her spine. But is a good shiver. 

“I’ve missed you too. I wish we could have some time alone.” She says in what hopes is at least a bit seductive. It doesn’t sound sexy in her ears, but she actually hears Rickon groan. 

“Fucking hells… I want the same too. I just want to- fuck. I miss you. We’ll see each other tomorrow, yeah?” There’s an indescriptible subtle need in his voice that makes Shireen melt. 

“Yes. Call me tomorrow.” She says. 

“I will, bye.” Rickon’s voice seems happy as they both hang up. 

The happiness she felt during their phone call is gone in her dreams. She hates her bad dreams, they always help to simply strengthen her insecurities. It’s not the kind of linear narrative dream, it’s just flashes. She sees kids mocking her, she sees the sad look on her mother's face as the doctors say the scars will be for live. She sees the friends that are only there because she’s a Baratheon. She sees herself older in college, alone again, with no Rickon, unable to make friends. She sees Rickon with another girl, a perfect model of beauty, telling her all those things he always keeps hidden from her. 

Shireen wakes up at two am in a cold sweat. Tired and desperate for warm milk. The house is warm as always, the electric heating permanently on since the fall started. Her mother’s minimalistic modern decoration makes the house feel much less scary at night than the Dragonstone house. When she was a child living in Dragonstone and she had a nightmare, she was scared of running to her parent’s bedroom, the old aristocratic house scaring her with its old relics and paintings. 

The glass of warm milk sooths her, but she knows very well that nothing would ever shake away the insecurities that hid deep in her heart. She tries to think of anything but that, so she forces herself to cheer up with the idea of her date tomorrow with Rickon. However, it did not distracts her from the whispered shout that she suddenly hears coming from her father study. 

“That is not what I said!” Her father tone is harsh and final, and it makes her come to a halt as she’s about to go up the stairs. “I specifically demanded that you do not share this with any of the people of your department, Massey!” 

“Mr. Baratheon-” Davos Seaworth, her father’s closest co worker and a loyal friend, tries to soothe him. 

“I had to hire the best private investigators, Mr. Baratheon. I’m just the director of public relationships, I’m not the one who knows who the best investigators are, those are Corliss Penny and-” Justin Massey was trying to explain himself, but once again her father interrupts. 

“Next time I say only you can deal with this, it means only you deal with this. Understood?” Her father says, command clear in his cold voice, leaving no room for further comments. Shireen could not see or hear if Massey did something, so she quietly walked closer to her father’s study closed doors to hear what was so important that kept them up until two am to talk about it. 

“What did you find out?” Davos says, and Shireen had to smile at his firm but gentle voice. He was a very kind man, who she had known since childhood, and who she knew most workers respected as much as they feared her father. 

“Not much.” Says Massey shakely. “But what I found was very important.” He was quick to add, no doubt fearing another outburst. “The bodies were never found. The police reports lie.” 

Suddenly Shireen feels very cold, and she debates whether or not she wanted to keep listening. Whatever it was, it involves bodies. She did not want to know whatever her father did that could possibly involve dead people. Another part of her was morbidly curious. 

“The South has been twisted by money and corruption. If it were my duty, I’d wipe the country clean on its entirety, but as it is I have only the North to worry right now.” Her father retorts. 

“So the reports lied, probably by money from the Lannisters. That does not mean that any of them live.” Davos says slowly. 

“There is some… information. This is not certain however, only rumours, whispers from bars and clubs.” Justin Massey says. 

“Not real information, then. Not important.” Says Davos. 

“Like it or not, that southern nest of vipers lives on the whispers of clubs and bars. Even if half of what they say is false, the other half may as well be based on truth.” Her father seethes. “Even to stupid rumours we must listen if we will discover the truth.” 

“The one talk I’ve heard the most is regarding someone named Petyr Baelish. He’s a business owner and has an accounting consulting company.” Justin Massey. “I’ve met this man. He’s completely harmless, just a simple man who has done good in in business, he’s not even remotely important-” 

“You’re wrong. That man is a consultant for many important people including that Lannister woman. He’s the widower of a powerful woman who was in fact the widow of an even more powerful man. He has connections everywhere and even if he seems harmless one must never underestimate the power of those who come from nothing.” Her father says. 

“Certainly.” Agrees Davos. “What do they say of Baelish?” 

“He has a niece, a beautiful young woman who lives in his house in the Eyre along his stepson. It is said that is merely a secret identity.” Justin says and she hears movement. “I know! I know it sounds crazy. But this girl, she came out of nowhere! There are no official documents of her existence, Baelish never had any siblings. He falsified most of her documentation. She studies at Giant’s Lance university now and everyone who has seen her in the Gates of the Moon can say that she has a Northern accent.” 

“This means nothing if-” 

“The investigator managed to snatch a picture of her.” Shireen hears movement inside and then a gasp which nearly makes her jump. 

“Mr. Baratheon?” Davos says. 

“He won’t be able to hide it for long. She looks more and more like her mother every day.” Her father answers. “We must find a way to get in contact with her. Not Baelish. Her.” 

“She goes by the name of Alayne Stone.” Justin Massey says. “I will make sure we can get in contact.” 

Shireen hears movement and leaves, not before listening to her father words. “Another bastard. Plus the other two hiding here in White Harbor. That makes three. Is it possible the other boy is hiding as well?” 

As she rans up the stairs and closes her door, she wonders if her father was talking of bastards of his own. Did he cheat on her mother? Did she have more brothers and sisters that the ones her mother buried and mourned for? Or maybe there were more bastards of her uncle Robert? Somehow, something in her father’s voice told her it was neither of those two options. 

And who were the other two hiding in the city that her father spoke of?

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. It's a bit fo a filler but I promise next chapter is ON and also I'm on winter break so this time I really made myself a promise to update before July finishes.Next chapter: Rickon and Shireen make progress with their relationship while Rickon battles to balance his life, Arya takes baby steps towards a new life while Gendry's involvement in the Baratheon Company grants makes him discover old secrets... and new secrets begin to plague our Stark babies.
> 
> One thing I can tell you: Renly and Loras will be featured in the next chapter. Please review and tell me what you think! And if there's anything you'd like to see tell me (I'm aware that as shipping comes, this is not overly shippy-cutey so if there's something you'd like to see the lovebirds doing, let me know)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse except saying life has been busy. Sorry for the lenght of this. As sorry, apologies and typos or grammar mistakes.

 

 

Rickon smiles as Shireen finishes ordering around her vanity and he lays in her bed. In a way, she reminds him of Sansa, who liked to have her room in perfect order. Her parents are gone for a couple days and one would expect she’d relax, but instead she spends her time making sure everything is as it should be. 

“I can feel you smiling, you know.” She says as she organizes some nail polish collection of sorts. 

“That’s not true, you’re watching me through the mirror.” He says as he plays around with one of her pretty pillows.

“Uh uh, I just have a sixth sense when it comes to you teasing me.” She says matter of factly as she turns around and rests her arms in the vanity. She looks very attractive, all relaxed in some loose long skirt and what seems like a comfy big sweater.

“I’m not teasing you. Not yet anyway.” He says as he eyes her up and down, and he can’t help but lament she’s not wearing her hair loose. He loves her hair. “It just that your obsessive order makes laugh.”

“And what do I have to do keep you from teasing me?” She says and it just seems like she’s reading his mind or something, cause she just… she pulls out some scrunchie and lets her hair fall and is just so hot he has to bite back a groan.

“C’mere.” Is all he can say, because he’s just dying to touch her. She smiles, and he loves that smile. She walks towards the bed and throws herself next to him. He loves how confident she has become, not that he didn’t like her shyness or caution. But now, now her kisses are no longer so slow and tender, all her affections are much more confident and bold.

Rickon didn’t think he could like her more, but it feels so wonderful when she seems to show so easily that she wants him. That she cares for him.

She just lets him pet her hair, and lets out a content sigh. That little noise is so satisfying he can’t help himself when he begins to trace soft kisses down her neck, enjoying the perfume of her warm skin until he reaches her sweater. He kisses her across her chest until he goes back to her neck again and goes back to her pretty lips. It’s a deep kiss, and when he feels her tongue caress his, he lets out a content sigh. They kiss until he needs oxygen again, so they break it off but her hands are still in his back, making this thing that drives him crazier as she goes lower and lower.

He continues his track of kissing her down her neck until she moans, and he has to bite back his own moan when she puts her hands below his shirt, tracing her fingers on his back.

He stops, because this is as far as he had ever gone kissing her, but before he can put some space between them, he feels her fingers massaging his scalp, and her breathy voice when she says “Don’t stop”.

He really really can’t help it there when he feels his own body heat up like a hundred degrees. He looks up at her and notices she’s blushing, but there is a certainty in her eyes that somehow manages to turn him on even more because she trusts him. He goes back to his ministrations to her neck as he gently pushes up her sweater. She’s not wearing anything underneath (bless this house and its central heating, Gods know in his house they need six layers of clothing.) and he feels goosebumps in her skin. She throws her head back and he doesn’t know whether to kiss her neck more or kiss her stomach. Once he lets his hands roam up her body to just below her breasts, and hears her moan quietly he makes up his mind pretty quickly.

He’s half hard already but tries to make it less obvious as he kisses her navel. He doesn’t know how far she wants to go, and he doesn’t want to scare her by poking her  when he’s showing how good he can make her feel. He kisses his way up her body as he slowly pushes up her sweater. Rickon’s hands nearly tremble as he touches her breasts, and even if he wants to take her bra off, he takes one look at her again as he kisses her above the fabric.

She’s breathing heavily, almost nervously and when he gently tugs down the edge of her bra to kiss the skin there, he hears it. A faint noise that sounds too much like ‘wait’ for him to carry on.

He puts both hand on her sides and pushes up. Shireen is looking up at him, blushing and trembling. He lowers himself to rest his forehead against her, and gives her a peck on the nose. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry.” She mutters. “I’m just- I’m not ready.”

“Is ok. Don’t apologize.” He says, kissing her again before he puts some space between them and moves to lie next to her. “Everything is cool.”

Shireen pushes her hair back and accommodates her sweater back on, coming to cuddle next to him. He feels her rapid breathing, and he starts to play with her hair. Her beautiful shiny hair that he likes so much.

“You’re not upset are you?” She whispers.

“Not at all.” He says. He’d glad she’s not asking if he’s disappointed because he kinda is, only because he got his hopes up. But he wouldn't hold it against her. He has no desire to pressure her into anything she doesn’t want to do yet. Sometimes he just wonders why she doesn’t want to yet, because he’s been a patient good guy and she seems to want it sometimes. But again, he has no right to question her so he lets his doubts unvoiced. “Everyone has… their own time.”

“Is not that.” She says against his chest. “I can tell that you feel bad that I’m not…”

“I don’t feel bad ‘Reen.” He explains because is not like that. He feels slightly frustrated, but that’s all.

“Poor choice of words.” She explains. She sits up and looks at him with her big honest blue eyes. “I know you’re not upset that we’re you’re not getting… I know it’s because I don’t- I don’t trust you with that just yet.”

“Wait, Shireen-” he starts because fuck, he feels so bad. He doesn’t want to make her feel bad for feelings that are mostly emotional insecurities. “I’m not, I’m not demanding anything of you. I don’t even think you owe me anything. Don’t, don’t feel pressured, please.” He’d hate for her to have sex with him because she feels she has to. He wants her to be happy with him, not making him happy despite her own wishes.

“I don’t.” She says as she nods her head and fuck. He completely doesn’t know what the fuck are they talking about now. “I’m talking about trust.”

Well fuck. He thought he was being subtle, but maybe his feelings were obvious in his face or maybe she has gotten good at reading him. “I trust you.” He says, and he can’t help the sadness in his voice when he explains. “But you don’t trust me enough with… this. Even if sometimes I feel like you want it as much as I do.”

“I do.” Shireen says gently. “I want you. I do.” Her hand comes to the side of his face, and her touch is so calming, he can’t help himself when he just closes his eyes. “But you don’t trust me.”

His eyes open suddenly, and he can only mutter a faint “What?” because suddenly, the fear that she has found out strikes again. And he can’t help himself from fearing, fearing the idea of his secret getting out. He fears the idea that Shireen and her family and her father, Stannis Baratheon, know anything about what he hides.

And he realizes, she’s right. Her knowing smile tells him she noticed he had come to that conclusion.

“I know you’re a private guy. And I thank you ‘cause I feel you share more about what you feel than you did at first. “ She looks down and he feels guilty already. “But I can tell you hide things from me. You don’t trust me with your secrets… do you?”

“It’s complicated. I never thought you felt bad about it.” It’s the only thing he can say, really.

“Yeah. Well now you know we both feel alike.” She says with a smile. “Will you ever tell me whatever it is you hide?” She asks in a tiny voice.

He sits up and runs his hand through her hair. This was not how he thought  the afternoon would go. But then again, somehow, it feels good to talk about stuff. He’s gonna try to talk to Arya more often. He rests his hand behind her neck, and bids her closer. She closes her eyes as he once again rests their foreheads together.

“Trust me. And I will too.” He says.

“Promise me?” She begs.

“I promise.” He kisses her this time, slow and sensual, and the conversation is over.

After the terrible day of the dinner and Arya’s beating, no one has bothered Rickon. No thugs from Sigorn had done any threats and the man himself has made no contact. It makes him paranoid, which in a way helps him  understand how worried Arya has been all this years. Once you’ve been in danger it doesn’t really matter if you’re being threatened at the moment, you’re always fearful.

Rickon manages to have exactly fifteen days of peace - which are actually ten days of Arya bossing him around via phone and having to check in with Gendry and five days of sharing a room with her at Gendry’s flat - before an unknown number calls his burner.

It’s Sigorn. He says exactly five words: “Meet me in your apartment.”

Rickon has half the idea of answering that is not really his apartment but he just stays quiet and waits until Sigorn ends the call. He tells Shireen he has some stuff to do after school and can’t go to her house. She makes a face that let’s him know he’s being shady again and she doesn’t like it, but he must reminds himself that he has no option.

He can’t actually enter the apartment. They left a couple days ago, turned in their keys and laughed at the nasty owner - who loved to look at Arya’s breasts and raise the rent every month for no fucking reason - as they left and never looked back. Gendry’s car was packed with their limited furniture while Jeyne’s was filled with boxes.

And so he finds Sigorn waiting in the fire escape, smoking a joint and lazily looking at Wolf’s Den prison’s roofs.

“I knocked and no one answered.” Was all he said as a greeting.

“We left a couple days ago.” Rickon said and Sigorn simply raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Where to?”

“I won’t tell you.” Is all Rickon says.

“You realize I can easily have you followed right?” Sigorn’s smirk is disgustingly sarcastic

“Then do it.” Rickon answers as he comes to his side to lean on the rail and extends his hand to boldly ask for a joint. “What do you want?”

“I need you to go scare a few guys into staying in bussiness with me.” Sigorn says. He hands him over the joint and the lighter, watching his reaction to his proposition.

“Don’t you have guys for that?” Rickon asks .

“I do…” He says slowly, as if he were talking to a mentally challenged person, “... but  I have those guys on other jobs… But for this, you kid are the perfect one.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because these are minor drug dealers.” Sigorn says like it’s nothing. And maybe the weed is already having an effect because Rickon finds himself not as outraged as he should be.

“Are you fucking crazy?” He nearly shouts. “You said you wanted me to help you until you were sure your guys were loyal, not that you needed me to deal cocaine.”

“Don’t be stupid kid. I don’t want you dealing anything.” Sigorn explains. “I need you to pretend to deal. These guys I’m telling you about? They’re only small traffickers. The sell to university students, miserable small junkies, desperate bored high society people…. They ain’t selling big amounts, just something here… something there…”

“And what would you have me do?” Rickon already feels the nice feeling of the weed relaxing him, and he kinda understands why Arya enjoys this things. He has only ever done it a couple of times, but Arya does it every time she’s stressed.

“Just pretend you’re another one of them… and remind them that is good business to get their goodies with the reliable Thenns.” His voice is much colder when he whispers. “And no one else.”

“I’ll do it. It’s just making sure this fellas are buying from you and not scare them right?”

“You can scare them. Just the right kind of scare.” For all answer Rickon lets out a sight. “What? Would you rather go back to steal cars and risk ending up in juvie?”

“How much will you pay me?” Rickon asks.

“Enough so you can help your pretty sister pay her hospital bill.” Sigorn says.

Rickon finishes his joint, and he’s off to do the work. After all, he’s got a curfew and the trip to Gendry’s flat is a long one. He manages to find two of the four guys Sigorn told him to look for, and at first he pretends to be another man like them, simply selling some coke to earn something on the side. Eventually he makes up all this fake stories about the thing he has seen Sigorn do to those who change suppliers or betray him. The lies come out easily, if not a bit exaggerated, but the Thenns fame help him make it sound real.

He goes to Sigorn to tell him he found two guys. “I have no clue how to find the other two.” He explains over a beer and fries in some dirty local near Wolf’s Den.

He’s having none of it though. “I gave you their numbers. Their usual circle of clients.”

“Yeah, and I couldn’t get a hold of them.” Rickon states, it’s not his fault Sigorn’s client change numbers or make trips to the Summer Islands.

When Sigorn smiles at him, it’s a threat and there’s definitely no sympathy behind it. “I don’t think you understand, you get the job done or-”

“Or what? you don’t pay me? You realise my sister is actually gonna be happier with me if I actually stop talking to you.” It’s the truth really, and if he wasn’t worried over the fact that Arya pulled a 180 degrees change and made them change apartments and quit her job, he never would’ve agreed to this in the first place.

“Listen, I’m gonna help you out. Give you a hand. But never think you’re the one in power here,” Sigorn hisses. “I am the boss. I am a Thenn, and trust me when I say, if you don’t do your part, I can make your sister rot in jail.”

Rickon is stuck speechless. _Oh Arya, what did you do?_ “You’re bluffing.” But as much as Rickon wanted to sound fierce, he just sounded like a kid.

“Ha, you wish.” Sigorn smiles is infuriating, and Rickon wishes he could punch him, but he doesn’t. He stays put until he can hear what is it that this bastard has over Arya. “I don’t want to be the bad guy here, but be sure, I can and I will make her go to jail if you don’t help me out with my business.”

“You- you … you bastard, why do you even need me?” Rickon thinks of the things Arya might have done to get herself such an enemy, and his mind comes up with nothing. He knows her sister might work outside the law sometimes, but he just can’t see what may cause her to enter a war with Sigorn.

“Because kid, somehow, you’re way smarter than all the other stupid people I got working for me. If I had asked them to scare someone a little, they pull out a gun and cause a scene. I don’t wanna be like my old man.” Sigorn explains. There’s a long silence after that, and Rickon is still confused in whether or not he should just punch the guy or not so he just glares. “You think the sun shines out of her ass, don’t you?”

“What?” Rickon has no idea of what he’s talking about.

 "Your sister.” Sigorn says, and Rickon just kinda shrugs. Arya is not perfect, not by a longshot, but in his eyes no one can say a bad thing without being an asshole. “She’s mostly why I asked you if you had anything to tell me. You’re brave enough yeah, but it’s mostly the bravado of teenagers. But her? She’s dangerous. You can’t be that fearless and defensive unless you’re hiding something.”

“So threatening us is your idea of keeping control?” Rickon is quite baffled, since it sound like a bad plan. Sigorn just shrugs.

“Listen kid, all I’ve known… all my life, is my father’s way. My father who threatened to kill you because you made one mistake.” Sigorn explains slowly. “Now I don’t wanna be like him, but the Gods know I can’t be too soft either. If I have to manipulate you into this, fine, but I don’t want to mistreat you either. Just do as you’re told, be honest with me and I’ll let you and your sister alone.”

Sigorn’s words do sound sympathetic enough, but something deep inside tells Rickon that his father would never ever let himself be manipulated like this. “So… you’re just making it up as you go, basically.”

“I really am being as nice as a man in my position is allowed to be kid. I have no intention of going after your sister if you just help me out.” Sigorn says, and something in his eyes tells Rickon he’s telling the truth. He’s being honest.  Rickon is not used to honesty, his whole life is a huge very rehearsed lie. “Just do these few jobs until  I get my group settled, be honest about shit and don’t… fuck up again.”

He nods, but something that sounds too much like Arya’s voice is screaming at him that he’s going to fuck up anyways.

 

*/*

 

“What the fuck? No!” Arya fumes as she tosses the controller. Gendry can't stop himself from laughing. She’s a horrible player. “This is so unfair, I bet you play every night and I don’t have a console at home!”

“I don’t play every night. I do work you know?” He teases as she pouts. It’s kinda cute, even if it does not suit her face very much.

“Yeah, I bet they break your back at work.” She snorts. “Can we stop this? I don’t do defeat very well.”

“Wuss.” Gendry says as he gets up to turn off the console and go for something to eat. Ever since Arya arrived, there has been more food in the fridge. According to her it was much cheaper than ordering food every night. He had to admit she had a point.

“Hell at least I admit my problems.” She says and he can only throw her an sceptic look before going back to focus on making burgers. “I do! It just takes me some time.”

“It took you five days of constantly calling Rickon and me to admit you have an issue with overprotection.” He says as he prepares the meat and heats the pan.

“Yeah, and in the week and so I’ve been here post-surgery  you have yet to admit you have a control issue.” She pipes as she walks towards him with much more ease than she had the first day here.

“I do not have a control issue.” He says and uses the delicious sound of the oil frying the meat to end the discussion. Arya gives a wolfish smile and he has to restrain himself from walking over to her and kiss her.

“Fine. I’ll go check all my things are packed.” She turns to the room she’s sharing with Rickon, and Gendry definitely cannot restrain himself from checking out her ass. He’s going to miss the view once she’s gone.

The Snows new apartment is not much bigger than the old one, but it has much better built in furniture and according to the landlord “good water heating” which made Arya and Rickon  smile more than Gendry had ever seen them smile. Arya had wanted to actually buy an apartment, but obviously she had not had a bank account either large or old enough to afford such a thing.

Gendry was happy for her, for making this step. Renting a better apartment, and even suggested inviting Shireen to have some girl time with her. She seemed lighter. Still excessively worried about Rickon and the secrets she always seemed to hide. Arya no longer walked as if she carried the weight of the world with her. But still Gendry could not deny a part of her would miss the domestic simplicity they had lately.

Gendry had never had anyone to be domestic with. He could not remember his mother, and after her death, it was all institution and rules and schedules. Until Arya and Rickon came to live to his apartment, he had never know how stupidly fun was to make breakfast with someone else. Or everyone gathering their dirty clothing for laundry. Or everyone tidying up since Shireen was coming (and for some reason, they all wanted to impress Shireen) and fighting over the pizza order.

He finishes the burgers, separating one for Rickon when he comes back, and goes to look for Arya. Tomorrow they’re moving to their new apartment and Arya was cleared earlier that day for limited work and movement. Most of their things are in his storage  and Arya’s friend Jeyne was keeping some stuff too. He has to supervise the arrival of a shipping from Storm’s End and won’t be there to help them move in, but Edric and Mya offered to help and bring some pizza over. Arya had refused at first, but eventually she accepted their help.

“No no, I’ll settle everything and then I’ll drop by.” Arya is whispering to her phone, and Gendry stands still behind the barely opened door. “Yes, I received the paycheck. I can’t thank you enough. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. goodbye.”

“From the restaurant?” He asked, although he wondered why she’d be secretive about it.

Yeah,” she smiled. “They’re paying me every last penny, so that’s good.”

“Happy to be out of the Green Mermaid?”

“Yeah. And the new job is fine too.” She adds with enthusiasm as she check the drawers for the eleventh time. She's obssessive like that, he has noticed. She'd make a fine military general, which may exlain why Rickon rebels by doing the opposite as she asks.

“What was it again?” He asks as he leaves expecting her to follow. He got the dinner served and only needed to take out a beer for him and juice for her since the meds kept her away from alcohol.

“It’s uh a secretary job. Well not really. More like an assistant. In a… software company.” She explain as she sits and digs in. She’s a messy big eater, which would almost make him laugh if it weren’t obvious she and Rickon didn't look like underfed war survivors. “Sounds boring but they pay well enough.”

“At least is nine to five right?” He hopes he doesn’t sound too hopeful, but he really hopes she doesn’t make a disappearing act. Arya makes a expression that he can’t decipher.

“They do… have some night shifts… They make firewalls you see, so since they take care of other companies IT security they have night shifts for emergency.”

“Oh. That’s a bummer. What will you do with Rickon?” He asks. He can tell she’s worried.

“That’s a problem. Actually I wanted to… ask you a favor of sorts.” She says seriously and extends her hand on the table. He takes it without thinking it.

“Anything.” He swears and Arya smiles. It’s a nice smile, the one she gives him when she enjoys his obvious affection. “As long as it’s legal, ‘cause I’m so over my rebellious youth years.”

“Rebellious? You?” She lets out a tiny incredulous laugh that makes him smile. “Now I’m curious about your criminal history.”

“Oh, you’d be in awe. Quite the felon. Though they dropped the charges.” He admits, ashamed. He’s not completely proud of the stuff he pulled once he got out of foster care, but King’s Landing is not much different than White Harbor when you’re poor. Choices are few and the judgement is harsh.

Arya is not smiling anymore, and he’s afraid that she’s gonna let go of his hand. Instead, she squeezes it, and he can’t quite handle how relieved it makes him feel. “I understand.”

“I know, that’s what I like about you, you know?” He says, and Arya is looking at him almost as if she wants to see through his clouded thoughts, her grey eyes penetrating him like sharp ice. “You’re like me. My other friends from work- Beric, Tom.. they’re nice but they just don’t… they don’t quite get it.”

Arya is just silent, looking at him like she’s mildly scared of his words and just then she pulls her hand away. “Gendry… I’m not like you. I’m not at all what you think me to be.” She looks down at her own hands, and focuses back at him with a guarded expression.

“I don’t- what do you mean?” He doesn’t know if he’s imagining thing, but not for the first time, he feels like he knows her from before. He remembers feeling the same the first time he saw her in that school office and again when he saw her dance in that pub. And that was the only reason he got enough courage to approach her, because deep inside he feels like he knows her.

“One day, I swear I will explain.” She says slowly, and it sounds like a promise. It just doesn’t sound honest.

“I won’t judge you. Tell me what is this secret you hide. If you’re scared, I…. I swear I will help you.” He takes her hand again, holding it tightly. Arya smiles at him, but it feels like she’s smiling at someone else. He reminds him a bit of his mother. He doesn’t remember much about her, and Arya doesn’t even look like her. But she had been sad too. Lonely and melancholic, smart but with no one to help her and with a kid to raise.

“You remind me of someone I loved, you know?” She whispers, and immediately he feels his shoulder dump. He tries to pretend his own heart did not freeze into an ice cube. Arya lets out a soft giggle. “Not like that. He was like a brother.”

“Jon?” Gendry dares to ask, and Arya immediately lets go of his hand like he has the plague or something. Her expression reminds him of that time he saw her in the club

“How do you know that name?” She pulls away as much as possible from him, and fuck, he feels so confused. He’s a very closed off person, but the amount of absolute paranoia Arya seems to have it’s crazy. And somehow, it upsets him.

“You called for him, when you were unconscious. Even the doctor mentioned it to Rickon and me, I thought Rickon had told you. Seriously, what is so wrong with me knowing?” He asks, annoyed that Arya seems to mistrusts him so much, when he had done nothing but being good to her. She had called him and he had run to help her, finding her beaten and nearly unconscious being carried into an ambulance. He can’t understand why can’t she trust him, and can’t quite help the old insecurities creeping up on him.

He has grown up from the days where people didn’t trusts a State kid with a criminal record. If she can’t  repay his kindness with a bit of trust then…

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She sits down, and the way her whole demeanor changes it almost scary. She sits back relaxed and runs a hand through her face. “There’s nothing wrong with you knowing, of course… It’s just that I never told you and I was worried…”

“Worried about what?” He snaps. Arya raises an eyebrow at him and fuck. Well. She’s like Shireen, you can’t even raise your voice a tiny bit without her turning into a defensive wildcat. “Sorry,” he mutters. “What are you so worried about?”

“One day, I swear I will explain.” Arya repeats, this time she takes his hand in hers. “Just please don’t…” She looks down and then back at him again. “Don’t push me away with questions before I’m ready to tell you on my own.”

Arya’s voice is even more vulnerable than the illegible babble that she spoke when he found her in an alley, and somehow that soothes him. It’s strange, to find someone more closed off and private than himself, and somehow he now realises how exasperating it must be to his friends or to Mya and Edric and Shireen. He feels a bit guilty knowing how much he has brushed off people good intentions by trying to keep them away.

"What was this favor you needed?” He asks, trying to put off his most relaxed smile. It’s her last night here, and he kinda doesn’t want to put a damper to it. Arya lets out a sight, and it seems he read her correctly, because she smiles naturally this time.

“I want you to please, help me with Rickon.” Arya asks, a distinct hint of motherly worry in her voice. “Gods know I made a mistake by thinking it was ok to leave him alone some nights or not giving him enough…. emotional attention.” She says with distinct regret.

“You’ve done the best you can…”

“And it’s not enough.”she says firmly, and he shuts up to let her explain. “Please, just… Invite him over to play videogames sometimes. Take him out for a beer or I don’t know.” She lets out a laugh. “Actually, scratch that. I should probably teach him not to get drunk.”

“Actually, I have a theory that teaching younger people to drink properly is quite smart. We did it with Shireen and Edric and now they know their limits.” He says and Arya shrugs.

“I don’t really mind that much if he enjoys a beer now and then, as long as he doesn’t feel the need of hiding it from me.” Arya says nonchalantly. It’s quite a smart logic.

“I’ll keep an eye on him, invite him over on the days you have to work a late night.” He says, nodding at her. “Take care of yourself too, ok?”

Arya open her mouth, but before she can answer Rickon comes in, tall and gangly and looking like they tortured him at school or something.

“Hey!” Arya says cheerfully, and they both turn to give her an odd look. “What? I can’t say things like I’m  in a good mood?”

“Are you in a  good mood?”  Rickon says as he sits on the table and munches on his burger without even washing his hands, dysentery be damned.

“Not particularly, but I can pretend.” Arya says as he eyes the animal way in which Rickon swallows his burger like someone is going to take it away from him. “How was school?”

“Fine.” Is all the boy says as he gets up to put his empty plate in the sink.

“And you afternoon with Shireen?” Arya asks while Gendry just looks as the boy drags himself to the bedroom.

“Fine. Tired. Gonna sleep now.” Is all he says before they hear the door slamming.

Arya shots him a look as if saying _Do you see what I mean?_

“C’mon, we’ve all been monosyllabic like that.” Gendry tries to put himself in Rickon shoes, because he supposes that the last thing fifteen-year old Gendry would’ve liked would’ve been an overprotective sister asking him what he did with his girlfriend that afternoon.

Actually, a part of Gendry tries to ignore the fact that said girlfriend is his seventeen year old cousin. Another part wants Arya to get the full report.

“Maybe, but two days ago he was happily chatting about his new biology project as the three of us played Call of Duty.” Arya whispers as if Rickon was within earshot.

“He’s fifteen Arya.” Gendry says. He gets up and puts their plate in the sink. He  doesn’t really want to go to sleep yet. He wants to enjoy the last night Arya is staying in his apartment, as silly as it sounds.

Arya is standing there, biting her lip and he has to work really hard to forget how he made her bite her lip that first time having sex in the club’s bathroom. Fucking hell.

“You want to go out?” He asks, because God’s  be damned, if sex is not happening, he wants to see her in a tight dress dancing like she was meant to be in a dancefloor. She is very beautiful when she’s so carefree and confident, like a normal wild twenty one year old. “Dancing maybe?”

Arya smile is honest and real, and her voice is almost nervous when she answers. “I’d love to.”

Gendry is putting on a shirt when he gets a text from Anguy, telling him next week is Tom’s birthday and they should celebrate. He thinks for a moment and offers the apartment for the get together. In all  this couple of years knowing them, he has never invited his friends over, which he now realizes is idiotic as fuck. If Arya is going to make an effort, he should work on his own flaws as well. Anguy is surprised, but thanks him and tells him he’ll see to the details.

He’s distracted the whole ride to the club, because Arya decided to just wear a black tanktop and a simple black short skirt with a jean jacket on because ‘she’s not trying to impress anyone anyway’  but he thinks it’s the hottest outfit ever. They get inside the club after half an hour waiting in the line, and so many guys look at her he just sorta puts his arm around her as an impulse. If it bothers her, she doesn’t say anything.

“I’m not drinking alcohol, so please, I’ll invite you the drinks.” He says because she never accepts anything. Every grocery bill or food takeouts she has split into two and paid her half, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she left behind some money for the electricity and gas.

“So.. I can order anything I want? Even the most expensive whiskey?” She asks like it’s the most naughty thing to do.  Gendry can’t help but smile because she looks cute, tucked under his arm looking up at him like he has just offered to buy her a jet plane.

“Anything you want.” Arya then orders some girly drink that according to her she “never orders because they’re way too overpriced.”

They talk until she finishes her girly drink and then they go dance. Is what he came to do really, because she looks beautiful as fuck when she’s dancing. He has had the chance to live with her for a few days, and he realises how much of her life is basically a routine of responsibilities. She’s not any less attractive in his eyes by it, but admittedly when she’s carefree and wild she’s basically irresistible.

He’s a shitty dancer, but she’s not. He enjoys watching her bust out her moves, laughing when she makes fun of his stiff dancing. Gendry feels a little proud of how she’s dancing only with him, laughing as their hips get closer and she looks up at him like he’s the only guy in the whole club. He get turned on pretty easily, since he’s a guy, but Arya is particularly touchy as she dances, and he can’t help but feel heat all over as she throws her arms around his neck, or takes his hand so he can twirl her.

She smiles at him the whole time, and her eyes shine so brightly every time a song she likes comes up, jumping excitedly and getting him to _move fucking hell, Gendry, c’mon bust a move_ and just let herself loose and feel the music.

She looks so beautiful, he just can’t help it when he kisses her. It’s one of those song with rhytim that it’s just made to dance skin to skin, and her back is to him but as she grind her hips she’s killing him, and as she lays her head on his chest she’s so inviting… He just sorta takes her face and turns it to him and just kisses her.

She makes this… noise which he can’t really hear but he can feel anyway. He can feel it in her lips, moving against him. He can feel it in hand, resting against her neck, feeling her pulse. He can feel it in their bodies, so close, moving like one. She’s a great dancer. He breaks off the kiss too soon, because it doesn’t feel enough at all. But Arya must feel the same, because she turns and gets on her tiptoes and _“Get me out out of here, anywhere”_ has never sounded so much like a promise.

He doesn’t ask her what it means when she kisses him endlessly in the car. Hungry, passionate kisses that distracts him dangerously from the road. He drives them to the beach, and even if it’s too late to go swimming, they walk along the harbor and enjoy the vivid night life of the  boardwalk. They walk in the sand until it’s nearly dawn and the deserted beach looks beautiful, and he can add sex in the beach as one of the new experiences he has had with Arya.

Of course, he’s dying to know what it means. But somehow, he’s afraid she’ll tell him it’s just sex between friends and nothing more. It’d put a damper on the entire night, and he rather remember her riding him with a wide smile on her face with the rising sun as background than a discussion of why they can’t be a couple. So he shuts up, lets her rest on his chest even if he has sand everywhere now and he’s worried people will start passing and see them, and enjoys the moment.

Arya walks to the car like nothing happened, cracking jokes and yawning, while he walks behind her enjoying the view of her disheveled hair and the skin shiny with sweat. The ride back home, he tries to not let it show he’s slightly anxious to know what she meant by playing couple for a night. She notices, of course. Smiles at him and holds his hand.

“So, do I get to meet your friends next week?.” She asks and he doesn’t hide his surprise. “What? I though couple introduced themselves to their friends, and you already know Willow and Jeyne.”

He can’t really help the stupid smile that forms unbidden in his lips. “Really?”

“Really,” she says as a red light comes on, and she takes the opportunity to raise his hand and kiss his knuckles. “Just remember what we talked about, yeah?”

_Don’t push me away with questions before I’m ready to tell you on my own._

“Yeah.” Gendry smiles, and she smiles, and everything is alright.

 

 

 

‘*/*

 

Arya’s job is not actually a job itself.

Well, it is a job, but mostly it’s just learning while working. It’s complicated.

Jaqen jokes by saying she’d the most promising of their initiates if she wasn’t so worried about what she was doing.

The thing is, while it’s nice to learn to hack computers or read important information, another part of her is worried of what would he mother think. It’s silly because her mother is dead, and thinking of her only makes her anxious and guilty and gives her nightmares. But damn it. Her parents might have indulged her with bow and arrow lessons and the occasional horse riding, but she’s sure they’d disapprove of learning to shoot a vast kind of weapons and learning to pick locks and start cars without keys.

At first, the job is easy. Black and White passes for a software company, and they do hack things more often than not, and she has had to learn more about computer softwares than the average IT nerd. They tell her that in this agency, you learn by working and the first time she tries to hack into the system of a corporation, she fails miserably. She gets better though, and by six months she can hack into anyone’s phone with surprising ease.

She was good at getting people’s phones. Shit, Jaqen offered the job before she asked for it.

“You will win much better if you work for us full time.” He said. “A girl has many responsibilities, and we can stabilize her finances.”

She’d said no, because she was worried. Getting caught and finding herself with a criminal record would surely make her lose custody of Rickon. But the first time she noticed she was not gonna be able to pay the electricity bill, she accepted a job helping out Jaqen in the occasional job here and there.

And then Rickon got himself into this mess with the Thenns because he saw her struggling. That was the limit. She would provide for him, even if it meant becoming the kind of person her family would disapprove.

_Jon would love me_ , the thought came to her unbidden. _No matter what I’ve done, he’d listen, he wouldn’t judge, and he would love me._ She tries to not think of him, ever. It almost makes her feel guilty, because she lost Jon before she lost the rest of her family and they all knew it was a possibility the moment he enlisted, yet she misses him the most. Not thinking of him has always been the safest way to ensure she goes on.

_When Styr’s grey eyes closed, it was as if Jon’s eyes died_. She thought about him constantly, like if the years of trying so hard to bury him deep in her heart did not work at all. She had no choice with Robb, since Rickon looks basically like Robb did when he was a teenager and Arya thought him stupid and boring. Just seeing Rickon’s blue eyes is like seeing Sansa and Bran and Ron and her mother again and that in itself is so painful, she had found a little comfort in being able to just… push Jon aside.

Arya’s job is not a job in itself, they basically train her. Train her to be no one or anyone at the same time. Train her to lie, cheat, steal or spy perfectly. She knew she was not the most efficient of Jaqen’s agent or even his trainees. There was a boy, Griff, who came and went with different hairstyles and showed certain pride in apparently being the perfect guy at faking identities. There was also this quiet woman (who looked like a child truly) who eyed Arya like she was the most unwelcoming sight and when Arya asked around, Umma told her not to worry.

“She’s angry at everyone that one. I once heard she hasn’t spoken to her father in twenty or so years.” Whispers Umma with her distinct accent. Arya likes to try to imitate her, but Jaqen tells her not to make fun of other people accents.

She’s quite good at it, which is pretty much the only relief she has of the feelings of guiltiness that creep up every once in awhile.  She surprises even herself of how skilled of a liar and schemer she can be when she needs it. Jaqen says that for someone with such a limited education, she is quite good at making up for it with cunning and a quick wit.

She has to bite her lip to prevent herself from telling him that she did used to go to one of the best private schools of the country and she was an excellent  - albeit a bit rebellious - student, but that sounded too much like something her mother (or worse, her aunt Lysa) would say. So she just shuts up and keeps on learning how to differentiate between the Government different kinds of badges and identifications.

She get a little freaked out the first time she’s sent to spy on Wyman Manderly, because she had been to his house twice as a child, but she passes for an assistant for three days during the visit of some sort of political group and no one notices her. She basically copies three documents that have something to do with the Frey family and something regarding a man named Wex Pyke. She’s mostly uninterested in the affairs of man like Manderly, who just followed and supported whatever decision and announcement Roose Bolton said.

He also retreated lots of funding from public schools, so Rickon told her she had to hate him and she mostly agreed. He didn’t seem so bad in person, but if there’s something Arya knows, is that who we are in between closed doors is something completely different of how we act in front of others.

Jaqen gives her her first paycheck four numbers and she’s so happy she ends up inviting Gendry to the cinema and buys Jeyne and Willow some flowers as a thank you for their help moving out. She pays her rent and is generally happy until the hospital bill for her operation comes in. Apparently another reason to hate Northern Government decisions? Public health gets expensive every day. She paid for her emergency care with her savings, but the operation was way more money that she expected. She swears she can feel her hair falling out in pieces when Rickon gives her the good news.

“I can help you with that.” He’s says nonchalantly as he has his breakfast. She had gotten excited over her new salary and bought them brand cereal and yogurt like the good days.

“No way.” Arya hopes she sounds as firm as she intents to be.  She’s staring at him, but Rickon just looks at his plate. “Not if it means-”

“I have savings.” He says like it’s nothing, like he’s not offering to pay twenty grand of hospital bills.

“I’ll have none of the money those Thenns gave you.” She swears, but deep down, the practical side of her is already beating the prideful side. “We need to-”

“We need to pay the bill.” Rickon looks up and his eyes look so old. Old and sad and defeated, eyes unlike any other fifteen year old she knows. “How can we have a fresh start if we have all these bills to pay?”

He’s right of course. She abhors the idea of asking him for money, but she knows for a fact that while her new job will be better paid than waitressing and with a more steady income, it’s not enough to pay the horrible hospital bills. And that’s without counting the fact that until she heals completely she won’t be able to do more… difficult jobs for Jaqen, which will be better paid.

“Ok, but promise me that as soon as those savings ran out you will tell me ok?” She looks him straight in the eye, telling him silently that there is no room for arguing or brilliant ideas of getting money from working with gangs here. “Promise me, Rickon.”

“I promise”, he says seriously. But she knows she will have to keep an eye on him. He’s as good as a liar as she is. After all, it’s what they do to survive.

The second month of winter arrives with a horrible vengeance, and every single bill rises up. The snow covers the streets, the flu makes everyone seem like cocaine addicts with runny noses, Jeyne and Willow have to work more shifts, Gendry is moody because he hates winter, Rickon is moody because that’s his personality now and Arya has never felt more lonely.

She gets pneumonia and spends a stupid total of six days in observation in the hospital because apparently her case is a “serious one”. Gendry berates her for taking too long to get herself to a doctor and relying on pills, with Rickon basically taking his side and even Jeyne gives her a pissed rant as well. Willow is the only sane one when she tells Jeyne that she’d done the same to save some money. Rickon tells her to shut up which makes Arya tell him to shut up since she’s positively done with his evasive moody attitude.

She leaves the hospital to find Rickon obsessing over Arya taking good care of herself, which would be a nice change if it weren’t because lately he seems bipolar on the edge of a nervous breakdown. She calls Shireen to ask, but get even more concerned because in her words “she has never seen him happier.”

She’s about to ask again, for sure, or to hang up and ask Gendry if it’s normal for teenage boys to be sweet with their girls and jerks to their sisters when Shireen says something that makes her stop for a minute. “... he even invited me to the Green Mermaid to celebrate for my A plus in Chemistry. He has been nothing but a sweetheart, taking me to the movies or ice skating.”

Arya worries. Of course she worries. She’s already worried enough because she can’t work for Jaqen for another three days, so that’s less money at the end of the month. She worries because she calls the hospital and finds out that her bill was payed in cash the very same day she was released. She worries because when she checks again the bills that arrived that month, she realises that when she passed money for Rickon to pay the bills while she was hospitalized Arya was nearly twenty bucks short.

She calls Jeyne, because sometimes it feels like she’s the only one who understands what it’s like to take care of a younger uncontrollable sibling. Her friend is busy at the laundry, so Arya meets her there. It’s a ride in the bus since they no longer live close, but it’s worth it.

“Maybe he’s getting money from washing cars or something?” Jeyne offers as she keeps an eye on her machine. It’s been known some people steal from machines.

“I don’t know. I just… damn Jeyne. I’m worried he’s getting money from somewhere else but I don’t want to confront him about it and get him angry because I don’t trust him.” She let’s out a sight and tries to accommodate in the hard plastic chair.

“But surely you would notice if he was involved in anything shady?” Jeyne asks and Arya feels so ashamed to admit it happened before and she didn’t notice it then.

“I just… With the new job, I’m… I’m so distracted. It takes me away from home so much. Maybe I’m not paying him enough attention.” She admits with defeat.

“Nonsense. This new job is good, look what a great place you have now!” Jeyne  says. “Besides, I remember Willow wanted me nowhere near her when she was fifteen. You’d think I had the plague or something.” Jeyne lets out a snort that Sansa would’ve defined as ‘unladylike’. “Once, I just stumbled on her at the park and she got a fit ‘because she thought I was following her and her boyfriend.”

“I imagine Willow was happy about that.” is all Arya says. Willow is a wild little thing, and sometimes Arya imagines if she had been the younger sister in the care of one of her siblings, she’d have ended up like her. Fierce and courageous, instead of paranoic and pretending to be brave but living in fear.

“Listen. All I’m saying is maybe he’s not hiding anything and just being a teenager.” Jeyne says gently, and she’s thankful her friend is always ready to soothe her anxiety. “As for the money, maybe he’s back to doing his shenanigans, but it doesn’t mean he’s involved in any gang guerrilla. Maybe he’s just... I don’t know, cleaning cars or something.”

“You don’t invite your girlfriend to a fancy restaurant with money from washing cars Jeyne.” Arya shot her a no nonsense look. “We both work steady jobs and barely make it to the end of the month.”

“Talk to him then.” Jeyne says as she rises to check her clothing. As if it was so easy.

Arya tries to speak to Gendry, but his suggestion is pretty much the same as Jeyne, to talk to Rickon. Her boyfriend, the poster boy for communication. It’s cute, because Gendry seems to be as reluctant as her to talk about his life, but somehow he makes such a huge effort. The first time he recalled his last memory of his mother, he blushed when his eyes got watery. She found it beautiful of course, and rained kisses on him.  Unable to tell him things about her mother, she ended up telling him of the time Rickon stole another boy’s bike and instead of making him give it back right away, she sat him on the handlebars and rode all through the neighbourhood.

It wasn’t a particularly happy memory, but it was one of the few times she and Rickon had enjoyed themselves as two kids. Lately, it has become very difficult to keep up with all her web of lies when it comes to Gendry, and it scares how easily she can let her guard down when she shouldn’t.

“Arya.” Rickon’s voice startles her. She’s lying on her bed, lights still on and too lazy to get out of her clothes and put pajamas on. Part of the latest job she’s doing for Jaqen requires she pass as a maid in the house of the Representative of the Bank of Braavos, and she arrives home completely beaten.

“Tell me,” she sits up immediately and tries to suppress a yawn. Her little brother looks apprehensive about stepping in, so she sits in the bed and pats the space next to her.

“I was wondering if I… If I could skip school tomorrow.” Rickon asks sheepishly, avoiding looking at her.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of her uncle Edmure’s wedding. The Red Wedding the media had called it, a moniker from the tabloids to what seemed a gruesome and mysterious crimes. Massacre is the only word that Arya used to describe it.

“Of course you can. I’ve never had a problem with you staying in the house in that date.” She says slowly. It’s true. She has never managed to find energy to even get up in those days, and many times she and Rickon would just curl up and sleep through the day.

“Actually I wanted to… wanted to go out with Shireen, she’s skipping too.” He explains. she shots him one startled look but before she can even think of asking, he’s already answering. “I haven’t told her anything! I just told her I was kind of blue and that I wanted a day off. Besides it’s friday, school lets out early anyway.”

“Oh well…” That didn’t sound much like Shireen, but if he was more relaxed spending the day with his girlfriend, who was she to deny him? “Yeah, sure.”

Rickon just nods and mutter a quiet “Thanks” before he leaves her room.

She dreams of many things that night. Blood in her hands, her mother’s last ragged breaths, how it felt to have Rickon struggling against her as she covered his eyes and his mouth. She remembers Sansa’s screams as someone dragged her away, and she remembers how much she clung to the hope of finding Bran in Winterfell and staying safe at home.

Arya learned many things that day. She stole from corpses anything valuable, she washed the blood away in the hotel’s kitchen with warm water and soap. Arya learned to always keep a knife at hand and to never loose sight of her surroundings. She remembers buying the train tickets, careful eye making her notice the suspicious man in black (with those damn golden bracelets) who looked at every kid in the train station with suspicious.

But what wakes her with a jolt is the image of those grey eyes. Styr’s eyes. Lifeless and empty. Like her father. Like Jon, who she missed more and more everyday. Sometimes she felt like she could handle everything, every single bad thing life threw at her only if she had Jon by her side, never judging her, always supporting her.

Instead, Arya Snow calls in sick, stays in bed until Rickon makes her breakfast and takes it to her bed and kisses her goodbye. She lasts exactly two minutes alone in the apartment before she can’t take it any more. Her home life had never been silent, lonely or depressing. But the last years had been nothing but  agonizing.

She’s a little less anguished after she smokes a few puffs of a joint in the fire escape ladder, and she calls Gendry to see if she can hang out in his apartment.

“I’m not home right now,” he says over the phone. “Are you alright? You don’t take sick days- ”

“Yeah I just… Didn’t want to be home alone today.” She says in what she hopes is a convincing tone. Well it is the truth, just not the complete truth. There is a second of silence before Gendry answers.

“Let yourself in. If everything goes ok in the morning, I may be able to finish the day near lunch hour.” Another pause. “Then we can talk.”

She hops on the bus and stares out the window as she admires the differences between the large poor population around Wolf’s Den and the small pretty neighbourhood of New Castle. She wishes she could buy herself a nice apartment like Gendry’s. Simple, not luxurious but in a nice neighborhood and closer to the city’s harbor.

By the time Arya let herself inside his apartment, the relaxed effect from the weed had worn off. Her body ached from a pain she could not specify, and her mind was sleepy after sleeping more than she had in a year. Getting rid of her jeans and bra was easy, and soon enough she was crawled inside the bed.

She dreams of her mother. She remembers Rickon standing in a corner, staying put there she told him to stay. She remembers her mother’s eyes, barely open and the wound in her neck bleeding uncontrollably. She remembers her hands still warm as she took the family’s camera out of her hands. As if her subconscious decided that she should not remember that, the dream changes. It’s is fast and foggy and soon enough the memories of Jon chasing her around Winterfell, laugher filling her home, the only home she will ever have.

She wakes up with a jolt, when she stumbles upon Jon’s dead body.

“Hey, hey, you’re ok.” Gendry’s hands is on her shoulders, laying her down on the mattress.

“Hey,” she says, sleepy and lazy. “You done for the day?”

“Yeah.” He stays quiet and softly traces his fingers on her jaw. She smiles at his tenderness. Men don’t usually see her as the kind of girl to treat kindly, and though Gendry is a passionate lover, he is actually quite tender. And she has discovered, he likes to be treated quite the same. He’s older than her, and he’s probably done with the phase where he’s a hungry bachelor and he enjoys the simplicity of being a couple.

He teaches her to be more of a girlfriend too, and it’s quite a surprise for Arya herself to find out she’s good at it. She’s a good girlfriend, or so Gendry tells her. She has a theory that is because she cooks, and all the cooking he can do is reheat cold pizza. Arya falls asleep soon enough, and in his arms she’s calm. It may not be happiness, but at this state in her life, being calm is a luxury.

Gendry is comforting and so close, here, giving her love. She’s supposed to be sad today, supposed to be depressed and lonely. but her life is surrounded by so much sadness and loneliness and misery, and Gendry is there, just happy to be with her like she’s a ray of sunshine. He’s so tender, and so close and warm. Alive and happy and free of preoccupations.  His pace is so slow, checking every time if she’s ok with this, holding her so close and protectively. Making love to him is a healing process, loving him feels liberating.

Arya allows herself the ridiculous act of cuddling to him afterwards, and he sure makes fun of her for getting clingy, but allows her to stay glued to his side nevertheless.

“Hey so… I have an idea, so you can distract yourself tonight.” Gendry says. She just looks at him questioningly. “My uncle Renly is coming tonight from the South and we’re having a little thing on the Seaman tonight. Just Edric, Mya, Renly and his boyfriend and Shireen.”

“Is Renly like your uncle Stannis?” Arya asks. She knew her father once knew Renly, but apparently the youngest Baratheon really was younger than his other brothers, and had been a closer friend to her uncle Edmure than her own dad.

Gendry snorts at her question. “Not at all. He’s young, closer to my age and Mya’s. It will be fun.” He then lower his voice, “you’d get some distraction.”

She’s quiet, and she’s scared he’s gonna ask, but he seems to sense she really doesn’t want to talk. “I think I rather go home. Stay in in case Rickon comes home early by some sort of miracle.”

“Ah yeah, Shireen mentioned Rickon told her he couldn’t go. She was a bit disappointed, if I have to be honest,” she gives her a pointed look and Arya does not even try to defend her brother’s actions. “She’s dying for Rickon to meet Renly, it was all she talked about on the way to school.”

Arya prides herself for hiding her reaction at Gendry’s comment. “You… you saw each other in the morning.”

“Yeah, we had breakfast together then I drove her to school.” Gendry says.

Rickon lied to her. And whatever he was doing in the day of the year in which they both were at their lowest…. it couldn’t be good. She felt it, deep in her heart, a calling she couldn’t quite identify as anything other than a survival instinct told her that her brother was getting himself into trouble.

“I can’t go, I need to… I need to talk with my brother tonight.” Arya says as she feels what’s likely the beginning of a headache hurting her.

 

*/*

 

Shireen is happy that her uncle Renly is in town. She loves her mother and father but sometimes she can’t help feeling her life would’ve been less lonely if uncle Renly had lived with them. But he had grown up among internships and summer in the exotic summer houses of his uptown friends. When she was little, she remembered him arriving to her home bearing gifts and promising to take her to a cool place where they’d give her a haircut and that he’d help her buy new clothes.

Her mother used to disapprove of her uncle spoiling her rotten, but eventually her aunt Delena said to her mother that she also spoiler Edric and she didn’t complaint. Her uncle Renly used to say uncles and aunt and grandparents were there to spoil. Sometimes, Shireen felt sad that Gendry and Mya didn’t grow up being doted upon by by uncles and aunts,  but she guessed her pity served them no purpose. For all her flaws, her mother had always teached her that she shouldn’t focus on her sadness to other people situation, but rather how to make it better for them.

It was not a bad suggestion, and it was easy to tell Mya just wanted someone to be her friend. Gendry was a harder case, and in a way it almost made her resentful that for all the time it took for Shireen to manage to get Gendry to talk, Arya managed to make him smile by just being there. Sometimes, she worried her cousin was too much a moody loner to maintain his few friends and a healthy relationship, but then again, she was no example of social princess.

She couldn’t get her own boyfriend to come with them to celebrate Renly’s birthday. Gendry had not gotten Arya either, which made a disappointment since apparently Renly seemed eager to meet who had managed to capture their hearts -his words - and Loras seemed determined to meet at least one fun Northerner.

“I was thinking we could organize a trip to Storm’s End!” Renly said, and Mya clapped delighted.

“Wouldn’t  you risk running into Cersei and your awful nephew?” Loras asked, and they all made a face. Shireen hated Joffrey, and she was sure none of her cousins were exactly fond of him. Or her aunt’s shady family.

“The marriage contract explicitly left Cersei out of any claim to Storm’s End. As a widow she has the right to the properties in the capital,” - her uncle’s tone of voice was cold at this, and Shireen looked away - “but she has no business near the Stormlands.”

“I feel bad for Myrcella.” Edric says, and Shireen throws in a sad smile. “I met her once, at the wedding of uncle Erren, and she seemed nice.”

“Tommen is a good lad too, it’s a shame. Cersei doesn’t let me communicate with them, and Stannis thinks it’s a stupid idea anyway.” Her uncle Renly says with venom, and Shireen must look away again, and the mass of people dancing. She gives thanks that their private table gives her an ample look of people walking about to not hear any opinions of her father lack of familial sentimentality. “But we should not talk about this on a happy celebration.”

Just then, a too familiar tall and skinny figure walks in her line of sight. Everyone jumps when she gets up suddenly and calls him over with all the strength of her voice.

"Hey!" Rickon look at her immediately, and gives her the world’s fakest smile.He walks over and kisses her cheek. Rather coldly. He smiles at everyone at the table and then asks her. "What are you doing here?" He does not really look at her as he ask, instead looks around. She tries to pretend it’s not happening.

"We're celebrating my uncle's birthday! Uncle, this is Rickon, my boyfriend. Rickon this is my uncle Renly." She puts on her cheeriest voice, but she can see even the others are noticing he’s distracted. It makes her a little sad to think Rickon is not giving this moment, where he meets her uncle, any importance.

"Pleasure to meet you." Rickon says. Her uncle shakes his hand but seems lost of words, staring at her boyfriend with awe. Shireen doesn't know whether to be jealous or pleased.She settles for the later, since Rickon does not seem gay or bisexual and honestly she needs at least one thing about this meeting to be nice.

"I uh, yes of course. I'm sorry it's just that you look so familiar. I can't quite place from where." Her uncle comments with a sympathetic smile. Immediately, Rickon’s fake smile completely drops, and something in his eyes resembles panic to her. She can feel his hand on her shoulder getting incredibly tense.

"Maybe some party?" Mya offers, amused. She’s playing around with her fruity drink and Shireen wonders if she also noticed how strange the atmosphere got after Renly’s comment.

"I hardly party with fifteen years old Mya." Renly answers offended. Gendry shakes his head as Loras simply barks out a laugh. "Seriously though, are you sure we haven't met before?".

"Yeah, I'm-" Rickon is acting strange, looking around and holding her shoulder very tightly, balancing from one foot to another. "I'm pretty sure."

"What did you say your name was again?" Renly asks, and Loras chuckles beside him.

"Are you drunk already?" Her uncle’s boyfriend aks half reproachful half mockingly. Rickon keeps on looking around and constantly fidgeting and Shireen realizes he does not want to be here. Or perhaps he doesn’t want her to be here. And she can’t help it when her own insecurity takes over her thoughts… Perhaps he didn’t want to get caught with someone else...

"No, I just-" Renly’s insistence gives her a relief from her poisonous thoughts. However, Rickon seems far from relieved.

"Stop questioning him uncle, we already did that overprotective act months ago." Edric offers signaling himself and Gendry. They both offer big grins, but she can tell at least Gendry is quickly realizing there is something odd about all this. He tries to give her a reassuring smile but fails completely.

"It's ok. Listen I have to go." Rickon tells Shireen with apprehension in his eyes. The suddenness of his statement... If the others didn’t feel something was wrong before, she’s sure her expression gives them the clue.

"What, why?" She asks. And then she realises she’s well within her right to ask him what the hell is he up to. "Why were you here at the club?" Without me she wants to add, and most importantly without telling me. But she doesn't. He knows what she’s asking. He takes his hand off her shoulder and the lack of contact feels incredibly sad.

"Shireen I...." Rickon doesn't even formulate an answer, and her old insecurities bounce back. If he truly wants to be with her or it's only an act. If maybe he was with another girl, and he expected she’d never catch him. She’s not going to cry, because he has not said a word and she won’t cry for no reason. She’s Shireen Baratheon, she has survived grayscale and bullies, she can survive her boyfriend (maybe) cheating on her. Nobody's smiling anymore, the tension too obvious.

"I'm sorry, what did you say your full name was?" Renly asks again. She doesn't know if he's already drunk or trying to break the tension, but everyone smiles at her uncle's question. Everyone but Rickon standing beside her, and Gendry who is looking at something behind her.

Finally, someone answers Renly.

"RICKON!" Arya's voice is loud and clear above the music and chatter. Shireen shivers at her tone, and Rickon looks positively livid. If she weren’t already half pissed at him, she’d laugh at how terrified he looks.

 Out of nowhere, Rickon is clawed away from her and she turns to see Arya holding her boyfriend in a vicious grip.

"Arya, what are you doing here?" Rickon seems completely perplexed and Arya just seems completely angry.

"I knew it, I fuking knew it. You're coming home with me and I'm going to-" Arya is already tugging at Rickon’s arm and Shireen is half pissed that she can’t get her answer and half sad that maybe all the things she had repeated herself Rickon wasn’t going to do maybe he was doing...

"Lyanna Stark?" asks her uncle. There is such a recognition in his voice, such a certainty mixed with curiosity that it takes some seconds to realise her uncle is actually asking.  And what he’s actually asking.

Even with the music and the chatter, Shireen feels like the world had gone silent.

"What?" Everyone is shocked at the question. But it can't be and she's sure her uncle is drunk enough to go and confuse her boyfriend's sister with a long dead woman.

But no one is laughing, and her uncle is standing up with a look of utter shock. It takes her moment to realise that everyone is serious because Arya and Rickon are standing like two statues, their eyes completely.... completely frightened. And she wonders if maybe the secrets Rickon is keeping have nothing to do with infidelity but all to do with identity. Suddenly, when looking at his blue eyes, Shireen realises he’s been caught in his lie.

"But it can't be po-" Renly starts and Shireen wishes Loras or Mya or anyone would crack a joke, but they don’t because Arya looks murderous and Rickon is paler than usual.

"You're confusing me with someone else. Maybe you should stop drinking." Arya's voice is barely controlled, and she's looking at Rickon with murder in her eyes and turns them to leave. "Let's get out of here."

"Not so fast." Her uncle says at the same time as Shireen and Gendry both let out a desperate "Wait!"

The siblings stop and turn to look at them.

"Arya... and Rickon.... it's you isn't it? You are the vivid image of Lyanna Stark and you... I knew it the minute I saw you... you look just like a young Robb." Her uncle is talking and she wants it so bad to be a drunken ramble that makes no sense. But there is absolute certainty in her uncle's eyes.

 

And when she turns to look at her boyfriend, the one she had trusted with every stupid though and every insecurity... She sees the shame, the guilt. He lied to her.

"Shireen I can explain, I-" Rickon moves towards her, eyes pleading, but Arya catches him. Shireen is so dumbfounded she doesn’t react at first. What does he want to explain? Her mind is racing with possibilities and she almost laughs at the irony. Because something inside of her tells her that she maybe could’ve forgiven or understood if he had cheated.

"No, you are coming with me. Now." There is a strange uncontrolled look in her. Like a wild animal trapped in a cage. She gives her uncle a disturbingly cold glare. "You are confusing us with dead people, that's not nice. Stop."

"Arya..." Gendry starts, and Shireen is a bit shocked at how little strength there is behind his voice.

"Not now Gendry." Arya snaps. When she looks at her cousin's eyes, she sees heartbreak. She feels a pang in her chest at the realisation she must look the same.

"Can I just-Oh fuck." Rickon is no longer looking at her, but rather two men walking towards them. One tall bald and thin. The other a big bulk of a man with red hair.

"Rickon. Arya." The first man smiles. Rickon forces one, but Arya stares at him hatefully.

"Sigorn." Rickon answers. Who is this man, she doesn't know. But it seems to be another of the secrets he's keeping from her.

"Why don't we all have a little chat?" The man gives everyone a smile, but none of its warm can shake off the cold that has taken over Shireen's body. She feels like Rickon is a box she never should have opened. Who was he?

"No. We were just leaving." Arya says firmly, however even Shireen can tell she's a bit scared. That alone scares her more.

"Ah, c'mon Arya. We can have a little chat can't we? You and I have enjoyed chats before, haven't we?". Sigorn's hand is on Arya’s elbow. And slowly but surely Arya sits, and Rickon follows.

She know little of those two. Gods, in the last minutes she has realised she knows nothing of the boy she lov-

"Nice to meet you all. I'm Sigorn Thenn."

"Renly Baratheon." Her uncle introduces himself, but there's none of the mirth or assurance usual in his voice. She knows he’s gently warning the man that he’s someone important.

"Ah, Rickon, what a friend you have. A man always surrounded by cameras and who smiles in tv shows."

Rickon doesn't say anything. His hand moves to hold hers, and as much as she wants to shake it off, she feels like she can use some of his temple. So she just laces her fingers with him under the table, stealing some of his strength.

"And what do we owe the pleasure of your company?" Loras asks, but it's clear despite his pretty words, there are thorns in his tone.

“See, I wanted to have a little chat with Rickon here. And I knew he’d be here." Sigorn. "Though I must say Arya, I'm surprised to see you here. A pleasant surprise but sti..."

"I came here to fetch my little brother." Arya says determined. "Whatever you can say to him can wait until I'm done grounding him."

“Oh no no” Sigorn says as Arya makes a move to stand up, grabbing her arm with more force than necessary and forcing her to sit back. “You two will stay the fuck here until we sort out all our problems.”

“What problems?” Gendry and Renly ask at the same time. Timidly, Shireen turns to look at her boyfriend. It takes a while before he feels her stare and looks back at her, but when he does, she’s scared of his feral look.

“I gave you a job boy. Money, protection. I even let your sister get away with the shit she did.” Sigorn says and he leans forward to look at Rickon directly in the eyes, and Shireen feels his grip nearly breaking the bones in her hand. “I asked only honesty from you, but you lied straight to my face.”

“Don’t talk to him like that.” Arya’s menacing tone is possibly murderous, and Shireen is thankful, because she may not be brave or fierce but she doesn’t want this man talking to RIckon like that.

“You!” Sigorn points a finger at her, making everyone jump in their seats. “Don’t speak you bitch unless you want me to-”

“To what?” Arya asks, and it seems something inside of her just _snaps_. She gets up and looks down at this stranger like he’s dirt on her shoe. When Arya speaks again, she seems a completely different person. “Listen to me you pathetic creature, I am Arya Stark. I was born in Winterfell to a lineage of Kings as old as this country. I had you on your knees once and I will do it again, because I do not fear you.”

It feels like the band aid finally was ripped off Shireen and she just feels like she was slapped. Everyone is silent, and Rickon is looking at Arya like she was crazy or plain amazing. Suddenly, Shireen lets go of Rickon like he had the plague. The feeling of rejection toward him was so strong that Shireen nearly felt like vomiting. 

She didn’t want him near her. Suddenly, she felt like crying. she knew nothing of him, and he knew everything about her. But Shireen was a Baratheon, and she was her mother’s daughter and she would not cry in front of the boy who hurt her.

 “Well well well…” Sigorn smiled, but then there was a wickedness in his eyes. “I knew you were a worthy opponent. But you’re too brave for your own good.”

“I believe it’s time for you to leave,” her uncle Renly says, the command clear in his voice.

“I’ll go, don’t worry.” Sigorn gets up, and Rickon gets up too. The same raw strength in Arya’s demeanour is in Rickon too, and Shireen wonders briefly if it’s genetics or something he learned from her. Sigorn moves and caresses Arya’s cheek, making her turn her face to the side. She looks disgusted. “I’ll be seeing you soon-”

“Get your hand off her.” Rickon’s voice sound like he’s barely holding in his fury, and it makes Sigorn smirk. A part of Shireen is scared by Rickon, another part that sounds like a stupid teenager admits that this was an aspect that she always liked about him. 

It hit her that he had never lied about being secretive and having skeletons in his closet, and that he only ever asked time. But when she waited patiently she has expected some sort of criminal record, not hiding the fact that he was possibly the last of the Starks of Winterfell. 

“Careful boy, has she told you yet?” Sigorn smiles wickedly, and his thumb is softly tracing Arya skin until his hand moves to her neck. Rickon looks furious and Gendry is surprisingly calm for someone whose eyes seem thirsty for throwing a few punches. “Careful of secrets you two. It can drive two people oceans apart.” Sigorn takes a step back, and simply looks between Shireen in Rickon. He chuckles, but Shireen squirm under his gaze. “I only came to tell you I know your secret. Careful, Stark. Extortion was never your family’s trait, but it is in the Boltons.”

“You’ve made your threats, now go away.” Her uncle Renly said slowly. It struck her that his gaze had the same intensity as Gendry’s and Mya’s and even Edric’s. Shireen wondered if she could ever contain such a fierce stubbornness in her eyes. She hardly had courage to look at this man in the face. “Starks and Baratheons have been friends for generations, you’ll do well to stop your bullying in front of us.” 

“Very well. See you around, Rickon… Arya...” Sigorn gave one last look at them, before getting lost among the pub’s crowd 

The silence is so overbearing, Shireen feels like she might burst into tears again. But she won’t. She looks at Rickon and he looks at her, and her heart breaks all over again. How could she ever survive such a betrayal?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo the secret is out! If anything seems rushed, it's mostly because it follows Shireen's POV who is aware of nothing and just got a major shock. I PROMISE, like, Ned Stark Promise TYpe, that next chapter will begin with load of explanations.
> 
> This chapter has been written for AGES, I was just extremely unsure of its lenght and believe when I say I've been editing shit out by TONS. I moved some stuff and completely eliminated characters who had an appearence here. Plenty stuff from Rickon and Shireen's POV were removed because it was way too much stuff.
> 
> The rest of chapter won't be as long, and I swear to god I'll try to update more often, but stuff gets difficult when you balance a job and two majors. Thank you to everyone who waited patiently, and please please let me hear what you think :)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! Please tell me what you think!


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